


Roll Over, Bare Your Teeth

by TuckerPuppy (HarleyD)



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Beecher loves Keller, Bottom Beecher, Bullying, Canon through Beecher chucked a chair through their pod, Complete, Crazy Beecher, Everyone is in unit B, Face Slapping, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, It sucks there, Keller loves Beecher, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Plotting, Prag Beecher, Submissive Beecher, Threats, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Top Keller, Top Schillinger, Typical Oz Behaviors, Well for Oz anyways, au season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9614741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarleyD/pseuds/TuckerPuppy
Summary: This story takes place in an AU from when Beecher threw the chair through the pod.  After the riot when Beecher is transferred to gen pop and realizes how bad he could have it he eventually snaps, and ends up in Unit B.  After killing Vern's current prag, he takes what he thinks is his rightful place as Vern's prag.  He is content with his lot in life until an old friend of Vern's, Chris Keller, ends up in Oz and instantly takes a shine to Vern's prag, even though Beecher is a little bit on the crazy side.** or AU where Beecher ends up back with Vern out of desperation in season 2 and has broken a little too much, and is an out of control sometimes violent prag.  Which Keller likes.  A Lot.





	1. Chapter 1

“Don’t even look at him.”  
            Chris didn’t listen to the advice, taking another glance at the man that was moving around the edge of the room, talking to himself.  He was on the smaller side, face shaved baby smooth, and he looked like prey.  He couldn’t look more like someone owned him if he was wearing a collar.

            “Who is that?”

            “Leave it alone Keller, he’s crazy.”

            “What’s his name?”

            “Beecher.”

            “He a prag?”

            Robson looked fully at him and then glanced at Beecher before tapping the table, “Don’t worry about him, let’s play.”

            The man looked like a prag though, he didn’t look crazy.  Or dangerous. He looked fuckable. He went back to the game, he was waiting to see Schillinger.  They had been in together before.  He had originally been scheduled to go to Em City but after a fight in receptions they had moved him to Unit B.  He was told it wasn’t as nice a place to be but he liked it better already.  Less hacks, less rules.  And it was clear the Aryans ran the unit.

            It startled him when suddenly the man was near the table, popping up by Robson’s side, knocking the cue ball from where he had been about to hit it.  It was a strange interaction as he watched Robson straighten and stare him down. 

            It took Beecher a few seconds but he looked away, and ran his fingers across the table.  “When is Sir getting back?”

            “Soon Beech.  Leave the table alone, you know that.”  Beecher frowned at him and reached out to tap the 2 ball before taking a few steps back quickly.  Robson raised his hand and Beecher stopped, baring his teeth at him.  At that Robson took a step towards him and Beecher scurried around to the other side of the table.  Robson didn’t follow up, reaching out to fix the table and now that Beecher was on his side he was finding it really hard to ignore him. 

            Robson gave him a look that said not to even think about it, but he leaned against the table and eyed him, “I’m Keller.”

            Beecher looked at him, but his mouth only twisted and he looked back towards the hallway leaning in to Unit B.  His temper rose, annoyed that some bitch would ignore him and he stepped a little closer.  “Hey.  I’m said I’m fucking Keller.”

            He watched the smaller man’s shoulders tense and he turned towards Keller, moving closer and leaning against the table, mirroring his posture as he looked up at him from under eye lashes longer than any man should have.  Keller didn’t really have a gender preference, he usually took what he could get, but this man.  He was a pretty pretty man.  He was getting close though, and Keller could feel them watching him.

            “I’m Toby.”  He grinned at him, before biting at his lip, and it was hard to look away from that mouth.  Just as he leaned closer the teeth were bared again, and this close he could see how wild his eyes were, and a growl trickled out of his mouth.

            Robson was leaning against the table, watching intently, “Careful Keller, he bites.”  He sounded amused but serious and Keller refused to lean away, he wouldn’t be intimidated by a prag.  And that is what he had to be, with the way they acted he must belong to Vern, but in all the time he had known him he never would let a prag act like this. Toby leaned in closer to him, challenging.

            Keller dropped his voice, “Get out of my face.”

            Beecher leaned closer though, “Make me, bitch.”

            Regardless of the warning, or that the man was clearly Vern’s, Keller lunged towards him, not really thinking through what he was going to do, because he wasn’t going to let some prag talk to him like that.  To his surprise though the Aryans around him tensed no one moved.  He grabbed Beecher by the shirt and when he yanked him forward there was suddenly something sharp and hard pressing in to his ribs, hard enough that he knew he was bleeding and he froze.

            He looked down at the shiv and up at the man holding it, and slowly eased his grip on his shirt.  As soon as he did the shiv was pulled away and when he fully let go of him Beecher wasn’t even looking at him, he was looking at Robson.  Keller raised a hand pointing a finger at him, planning on telling him to fuck off and barely managed to pull his hand away quick enough to avoid being bitten.

            “Jesus.”  He took a step back and then another and as soon as he did the shiv was gone and Beecher took off back towards the edge of the room, not even glancing at them.  Keller looked down at his shirt and could see the blood coming through and he looked at Robson, “What the fuck was that?”

            Robson was grinning, but not like he was mocking him, but like he found it truly amusing.  A prag starting shit with him should make them give him shit, but no one seemed to find it that surprising.  Robson shrugged, “That’s Beecher.”

            He touched where the shiv had gone in and glanced after him.  “He’s Vern’s prag?”

            “Yup.” 

            “And he’s carrying a shiv?”

            “Yup.”

            Keller couldn’t help raise an eyebrow, “Vern going soft in his old age, letting his prag run around like that?”

            “He’s got him under control.”

            “Looked like it.”

The man next to Robson snorted, “You’ll see.”

            Clearly they had all lost their minds.  A little bitch like Beecher should be simpering and cringing and instead he pranced around like he was king shit.  It intrigued him as much as it pissed him off.  “Be careful Keller, he’s a scrapper.”  Robson tilted his head at the guy next to him, “Tell him what happened to the biker that tried to force him to give him a blow job.”

            Several of the men cringed at once, and Keller tilted his head.  “Vern kill the guy?”

            Mack shook his head, “Beecher bit his dick off.”

            Before Keller could respond to that he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, Vern coming into the room and he turned to lean against the pool table so he could see him.  He had barely made it in the room when Beecher darted across the room to him, skidding to a stop nearly a foot away, standing stock still.

            Vern didn’t even hesitate, he scanned Beecher up and down and then headed towards his men, Beecher falling in to step to his side and slightly behind him.  This was... even more interesting.  Beecher stared at Vern like a well-trained dog, his eyes firmly on him and nearly vibrating like he was waiting for something.

            “Keller!  I heard you were getting moved here!”  Schillinger really did sound happy to see him and when he got close enough he grabbed him to pull him in to a hug.  “Welcome to my unit, it’s better than McManus’ little fuck city, trust me.”

            Vern stood back and seemed to notice Keller’s shirt.  “What the fuck happened to you?”

            Next to him Beecher went completely stiff, and before Keller could answer the man was whimpering out, “I’m sorry, sir.”

            “Are you fucking kidding me?  He’s been here for an hour and you started shit?”  Vern had turned to face Beecher and the man’s face fell, looking like he was going to cry.  Vern reached for him and he moved closer immediately, tilting his face up like he was waiting to get hit, and Keller could only stare. 

            Beecher was shaking now, tears in his eyes, “He attacked me.”

            Schillinger looked up to Robson who nodded.  He looked to Keller and he tensed himself for something bad but Schillinger’s body language had already eased, “Didn’t they warn you?”

            “They didn’t say he was your prag.”

            Both Schillinger and Beecher tensed, but Vern shook his head.  “That he would attack you?”

            Oh.  Keller slowly nodded and motioned at him, “I guess I thought they were fucking with me.”

            Beecher was just relaxing, leaning against Vern’s side when Robson spoke again, “Of course, he called Keller a bitch, so he did kind of start it.”

            Vern’s hand on Beecher’s shoulder tightened and his voice lowered, “Did he bite?”

            “He tried to.”  The words had a sing song quality to them, and Robson looked smug

            Beecher’s eyes flew to Robson’s face, starting to growl again when a slap rung out.  Beecher stumbled back at the force of the backhand, and slipped to his knees instantly.  Vern pointed at him but didn’t say anything else as he stomped towards their cell.

            Robson watched Vern go and when he was out of sight he leaned down towards Beecher and snarled out, “You’ll think twice before fucking with my pool table next time, won’t ya.”

            Beecher’s voice wavered, no growl in it now, “Tell him that I didn’t start it Robson.  Please.  I didn’t really try to bite him, you know that.”

            Robson crossed his arms and leaned against the table, raising an eyebrow at him.  “You going to stop fucking with me when I’m playing pool?”

            “Yes.”  He shifted on his knees, glancing at Vern on his way back, “Please tell him.”

            It was truly fascinating to watch, and he couldn’t help but be curious.  He had seen prags broken before but this... he couldn’t even wrap his head around what was going on here.  Robson glanced at him, “Let Vern know you pushed him, yea?  Don’t worry, he knows how Beech is.  It won’t fuck anything up for you.”

            Vern was back and holding something in his hand.  When he reached him Beecher opened his mouth though the tension in his jaw said how unhappy he was about it.  It looked like a bit, made of some kind of leather and Beecher bit down on it and Keller realized it was a gag.  Nothing tied it around his head or kept it on, just him biting down on it. 

            He made a sound and Vern looked up at him.  “I was pushing him Vern, ya know?”  He motioned at him, “He didn’t respond till I pushed.”  On a whim he added, “I don’t think he really tried to bite me, just kind of... snapped his teeth.”

            Beecher was watching him and quickly looked down to the ground.  Vern’s hand dropped to Toby’s hair and pet it.  “That true Bitcher?”

            He nodded, jaw clenched so hard around the bit that he was drooling, but he leaned hard into the hand petting him.  “Okay, then you only need to keep that in till dinner.”  He reached down suddenly to pull it out though, “Apologize to him.”

            Beecher looked sour at that and eyed Keller until Vern used the hand petting his hair to twist it painfully, “Are you disobeying me?”

            Beecher shook his head what he could and looked to Chris, “Sorry I scared you.”

            “You want to keep that in till tonight?”

            Beecher looked up at Schillinger and the frown slid away.  “No, sir.”

            “Then apologize.”

            He huffed but looked back at Keller, “Sorry I stuck you with a shiv.  I probably wouldn’t have bit you.”

            Keller looked at Schillinger just in time to see him hide the smirk, and he realized that Schillinger liked the mouth on the other man.  Was enjoying his attitude.  He watched Beecher till he looked away and nodded, “No hard feelings.”

            Vern didn’t wait for him to answer, just shoved the bit back in and then moved away to grab a pool stick.  Keller could see the hack glance at them a couple times, but no one said anything about Beecher kneeling on the ground like that and he wondered what kind of deal Schillinger had working here.

            They played pool and Beecher didn’t move from his kneel, he shuffled back so he wasn’t in the way and sat back on his heels, but didn’t resume his wandering of the room.  Keller noticed when Schillinger’s head went up, eyeing the three bikers entering the area Vern moved over and nudged Beecher with his knee, “Get in the cell.”

            Beecher made some kind of sound that sounded like “Yes, sir” around the gag and rocked to his feet, aided by Vern grabbing his arm to pull him up.  He headed to their cell, directly across from the one that Keller had been assigned to, and disappeared as the bikers showed up to talk business.

            A few hours later they were called for dinner Schillinger whistled without looking, and after a second Beecher popped his head out of the cell, eyes landing on Schillinger before moving to his side, head down, hair across his face, wrists crossed behind his back. 

            The fight he had earlier was gone, and he stopped next to Vern, finally tilting big eyes up to look at him.  Keller could see his jaw working, tensing and from the way he moved it was clear he was in pain.  Yea, clenching that between his teeth for hours had to hurt and he realized how much of a threat it had been now for him to have to keep it in all night.  Would Vern have even let him eat?

            Vern didn’t give him attention immediately, finishing up the game and shooting the shit with Robson before he finally turned towards him.  “Come here.”

            Beecher moved closer and lifted up his chin and Schillinger’s hand moved up to cup the side of his face, his hand nearly big enough to cover half of it.  “Are you going to bite anymore?”

            “No, sir.”  Or at least that is what Keller assumed he was saying, it was muffled and laced with pain, but he had the idea Schillinger understood it fine. 

            “Ask nicely then.”

            “Please, sir.”  Now there were tears and Schillinger stared at his face before lifting his other hand to grab the bit.

            “Come on then, open up.”  His jaw had been clenched so hard for so long he whimpered when he tried to open his jaw, and Schillinger quickly snatched the bit and shoved it in his pocket.  He kept his hand on Beecher’s cheek though, his thumb rubbing at the joint where his jaw connected, trying to soothe the ache.  “Shh.”  When the pained sounds stopped Schillinger turned his hand so his thumb pressed against Beecher’s lips, pressing it in until Beecher sucked on it for a moment.  With a grin Schillinger finally dropped his hand and Beecher threw Keller a sideways look and he felt like he was intruding.

            “I’m sorry, sir.”  He stayed pressed near Schillinger but turned towards Keller, and his voice was contrite in a way it hadn’t been earlier, “I’m sorry about earlier.  I know better.”

            That voice, all whimpering and cringing now, like a real prag, had an effect on him but he knew better to show that and just tilted his head at him.  “Just a bad start.”

            Schillinger glanced towards their cell, “Shit, watch him for a second.”

            Keller didn’t think Beecher needed to be watched, no one had been earlier, but he did seem different now.  He took a step towards him just to see what he would do and Beecher didn’t move away but he flinched, keeping his eyes down.  Keller hummed, “That looks like it hurt.”

            “It does.” 

            “You take it out when he isn’t looking?”

            Beecher looked up at him, eyes wide with shock.  “No!”  And Keller believed him, he really did.  Schillinger was coming up behind them and Beecher turned, reaching out to grab at Schillinger’s belt, wrapping his fingers around it.  Schillinger didn’t even acknowledge it, and Keller had never seen him let a prag cling to him like that. 

            They headed towards the cafeteria and he kept an eye on Toby, watching him work his jaw and his fingers turned white he clung so hard to Vern.  As soon as they hit the cafeteria, he was caught off guard again because Beecher let go like he had never been touching him and was off.  Keller watched him go from table to table while they waited in line, talking with some people, never staying long anywhere.  “Isn’t he going to get food?”

            Vern glanced at him and nodded.  “He’s fine.”

            Beecher glanced back a few times, keeping eyes on where Vern was, and seemed to finally settle at an empty table.  He assumed that was the Aryans’ table and Beecher settled in easily, putting an elbow on the table and resting his head on it, now fully watching Vern.  He looked completely like he was waiting for someone to deliver him his meal.          

            Well, yup.  He wasn’t wrong.  The mick behind the counter handed two trays to Vern, who took them like that was normal and Keller took his, moving up close to Vern.  “You deliver your prag his meals Vern?  A lot has changed.  You sure who is in charge?”

            He snorted.  “Every single fucking person in here knows who is in charge.”  He did hesitate long enough for Keller to catch up with him and gave him a pointed look, “Speaking of which, I don’t forget the kind of fuck you are.  Don’t fuck him and don’t hurt him.  You got it?”

            Keller shrugged, “That’s it?”

            Schillinger shrugged, “You’re welcome to do whatever else you want to him, but don’t be surprised if you end up with a shiv if he doesn’t like it.”  He seemed to think about it, “Tell me if he bites though.”

            They reached the table and Vern dropped the tray in front of Beecher before he took a seat next to him, and motioned Keller to sit on the other side of him.  Beecher straightened his tray and twisted towards Vern, kissing his cheek.  “Thank you, sir.”

            They ate and Keller thought about it what he wanted to say.  “They haven’t assigned me a job yet.”

            “They are backed up a couple of weeks, you’ll just stay in Unit B until we can get you in the mail room.  You can hang out with him.”

            He looked at Beecher before back to Vern.  “He doesn’t work?”

            “I’m literally sitting right here.”  Beecher turned to look at him, “Hi, Toby, I tried to bury a shiv in your ribs earlier.  Sitting right here.”

            “You got a mouth on you.”

            “Yea he does.”  Vern laughed and Keller watched a blush rise up Toby’s cheeks before he turned back to his food.

            “I don’t fucking work.”

            “He works in the mail room.  He just stays in the unit.”  Vern looked over and took the pudding off Beecher’s tray, “He’s a lazy fucker.  He didn’t do any work anyways, you know how these privileged fucks are.”

            Beecher was nodding along, “I went to Harvard.  Was a lawyer.”  He held up his hands and winked at Keller, “Soft hands.  Terrible work ethic.  Might as well stay in the cell.”  There was some bitterness to the words, and either Vern didn’t hear it or didn’t care, and Beecher went back to eating, hunched over his tray.

            After dinner it was back to their unit, their cells, and finally it was lights out.  Keller’s cell mate was asleep almost instantly but he was curious, and he leaned against the end of his bed, watching the cell across from him. 

            The hacks did a round just after lights and it wasn’t much longer before Vern was off his bunk, feet on the floor as he dragged Beecher out of the bottom bunk.  Vern wrapped his hands in Beecher’s hair and they were kissing before he yanked his head back to bite as his neck.  The necking didn’t go on long before Beecher was given a rough shove to sprawl him on the bed.  Vern glanced either way, looking for hacks and then motioned at the other man. 

            Obediently he started to pull off his clothes until he was naked and then crawled on the bed on his hands and knees, face pressed down and ass up in the air.  They barely even tried to hide it, and the hacks must be paid off all to shit. 

            What surprised Keller though, even with the dim lights, even across the hallway he could see Beecher’s face and it was not happy.  He was sure with the way they were, the way they acted, that Beecher enjoyed the sex, that it had gone on this long because he wanted it but it didn’t look like it to him.  It looked like it hurt and he kept his head tucked down until Schillinger grabbed his hips and said something that Keller couldn’t make out, just the tone.  Mean, a growl, and Toby pushed up to his hands and knees and started to push back. 

            This must be better, feel better, because Beecher’s face slid more into a neutral territory and Keller reached down in his own pants to jack himself off as he watched Beecher get fucked hard.  A few sounds made it across the hallway now, and when he realized Beecher was moaning his own dick twitched in his hand. 

            A grunt signaled Vern cumming and he watched him push off Beecher, pulling him up on his knees to kiss him again, and it left Beecher on display for anyone that was looking.  His dick was hard and when Vern pulled away he heard a gasped please as Beecher’s hips jutted forward.  Schillinger gave him a pat on the cheek and then pulled himself up to his own bed, leaving Beecher alone, hard and whimpering.

            Beecher was looking up at the bottom of the bunk and again there was something said by Vern that he couldn’t hear and Toby grabbed himself, yanking on his dick.  Keller was close to coming when Beecher looked up and they met eyes, Beecher letting out a surprised gasp as he came, tearing his eyes away from Keller’s.

            Keller smothered his own groan in his arm, and only glanced at Toby long enough to see that he had gotten up to clean himself off, and he crawled in to bed.  He shook his head, Beecher belonged to Schillinger, and he had to remember that.   He glanced at him once more, and found Toby looking at him.  This did not bode well.


	2. Chapter 2

“I want to go to the gym.”

            Keller lowered the skin mag to see Toby standing there.  “And?”

            Toby tilted his head, “I want to go to the gym.  Will you please bring me?”

            “Why are you asking me?”  He was sprawled out on his bed, his feet on the ground, pillow propped against the side of his cell.

            “I’m not allowed to go by myself, no one else is here.”  Toby was looking at him expectantly and he snorted and looked back to the magazine.  His dick jumped in his pants but he ignored it.  He wanted to go to the gym with him if he was honest, he wouldn’t mind a work out, but he wasn’t going to be bossed around by a prag.  Or whatever it was exactly that Beecher was.

            “Keller, please.”  He eyed him over the magazine and Toby was looking at the clock, biting his lip.  “I want to go box with Cyril.  Him and Ryan are there now.”

            “O’Reily?”  Schillinger had gone over with him the head of the groups that they were tight with, that had their backs and he was sure that was one mentioned.  As one of their closer allies.  Apparently his brother was slow and when he arrived to Oz Schillinger had protected him.

            “Yes.  Please.”  When Keller didn’t respond Beecher sighed.  “What do you want?  Robson likes me to ask on my knees.  Mack likes me to kiss his boots.”

            That did get his attention and he threw the magazine aside completely, eyeing him.  “Anything I want?”

            Beecher shrugged but then narrowed his eyes.  “I can’t get you off, Vern will kill you.”

            “Just me?”

            Beecher tilted his head, and that wild look was back in his eyes, “Just you.  I’d get punished, but you’d get dead.”  Beecher eyed him and then moved closer and dropped to his knees between Keller’s spread legs.    “Please?”

            Chris sat up, his dick twitching without his consent at Beecher only inches from it.  Beecher glanced down and back up with a raised eyebrow, but before he could look too smug Chris shoved out, catching him on the shoulder and sprawling him on to his back.

            An indignant yelp slipped through his mouth, and before he could even get his bearings Chris was on his feet, and dragging him up by his shirt.  It was his turn to give an amused wink to Beecher, “You can’t play me, bitch.  Come on, I’ll bring you.”

            He released his grip but grabbed the back of Beecher’s shirt between the shoulder blades, half dragging him.  Beecher twisted in his grasp, mouth quirked like he was laughing, “I had you.”  He tugged on the hold more, “Let me go.”

            “Nah, I think you’re good.”  It was risky, he knew it was, but he was establishing dominance with the little bitch.  Fuck if he would tip toe around him like Robson and Mack did.

            The smile slid off his face and he tugged hard, “Quit fucking touching me.”

            “Vern said not to fuck you, and not to hurt you.  I’m not doing either.”

            He saw a flash of movement and without giving it too much thought he moved quickly and slammed Beecher against the wall, just out of sight of the hacks.  He kept one hand on his shoulder pinning him there and the other held his wrist against the wall, squeezing until Beecher whined and dropped the shiv.

            They were pressed close together and Beecher looked up at him, and Keller was gratified to see some fear.  He squeezed his hand a little tighter, watching him wince, before he loosened up, just holding him pinned against the wall.  “I’m not some fucking lackey you can do this shit with Beecher.  Do I look like fucking Robson?”

            Beecher shook his head, glancing past him desperately, probably looking for an Aryan to protect him and he knew he had to get a handle on it before the prag panicked.  “I’m not going to hurt you, but I’m not going to take shit from you.  You understand?”

            Toby gave up looking around and looked up at him, meeting his eyes.  He flexed his hand.  “You’re hurting me now.”

            “You were going to try to shiv me.”

            Beecher licked his lips and glanced down to where the shiv fell, “You wouldn’t let go of me.”

            “Nope, and if I’m not breaking Vern’s rules you need to just suck it up and do what I say, got it?”  He let him go, “Grab your shiv and hide it before a hack sees.”

            Beecher didn’t hesitate, snatching it up and by the time he turned towards Chris it was already hidden and he just eyed him.  Keller raised an eyebrow, waiting.  Beecher finally scuffed his foot, looking away.  “Can we go to the gym?  Please?”

            He waved his hand out in a dramatic fashion and Beecher smiled at him, a real smile, and then starting trotting off towards the gym. 

            There were a handful of people in the gym, including a clearly Irish man leaning against the fence, the one he had seen in the cafeteria serving food.  He was watching a blond haired man hit a punching bag.  The man wasn’t fucking around, he looked like he had been trained, and he was pounding the shit out of it.  He remembered that Toby had said he wanted to box with Cyril, but this couldn’t be who he meant.

            Just barely past the threshold and Toby was off like a shot, practically slamming into the man leaning against the fence.  Whoever it was, they were a fighter.  He could see it in the way that his whole body tensed up and Keller lunged forward, ready to protect Beecher from whoever it was.  As soon as the man saw Beecher though he just curled an arm around his shoulders, without taking his eyes off the man boxing.

            Beecher clung to him, arms around his waist, face pressed in to his shoulder, clinging hard.  Keller watched for a moment before he approached and he saw the man look up at him before saying something to Beecher.  Beecher nodded against him without letting go and when he got close the man put out the hand that wasn’t holding Beecher, “Ryan O’Reily.  Welcome to Oz.”

            “Chris Keller.” 

            Ryan gave him a grin but his eyes snapped to the man at the punching bag, “Cyril, come on, Toby is here to see you.”  
            Toby didn’t look like he was going to let Ryan go any time soon, but when Cyril came near them he pulled away, swiping at his face like he had been crying.  Ryan chucked his chin and dropped his arm.  “You okay Toby?”

            “Yes, Ryan.”  He was barely away from Ryan when Cyril hugged him, and it was a much shorter hug. 

            Beecher was beaming when he looked up at the man though, “Wanna box?”

            “Yes.”  It was clear they were right about him being slow, and they started to head away but Ryan caught Cyril’s shoulder.

            “Remember Cyril, easy on Toby.  He’s a friend, you need to be careful.”  Cyril nodded and they moved away, Keller watching as Toby pulled on some gloves, grinning like crazy.  Relaxed.  Interesting.

            He leaned against the fence.  Ryan glanced at him, “So what is your story?”

            “Served time with Schillinger in Lardner.  Down in unit B.”  He motioned towards Beecher, “What is his story?”

            Ryan smiled and shrugged.  “That’s a long one.”

            “What’s the short version?”

            “He was a lawyer, came in, was put in em city.  Vern pragged him out pretty hard, and eventually he snapped and threw a chair through the pod and gave Schillinger that scar he has over his eye.”

            That was news to Keller and he let out a low whistle, “And he didn’t kill him?”

            “He tried.  Got sent to the hole, was there when the riot happened.  Beech went a little crazy for a while, backed me during the riot.”

            “How did he end back up with Schillinger?”

            “After the riot they all got thrown in gen pop, some biker tried to force him-”

            “I heard.”

            “After that they didn’t let him back in Em City.  He got sent to unit B, and before anyone knew it Schillinger’s current prag was found with his throat ripped out.  Said it looked like a wild animal.”

            “He killed him?”

            Ryan shrugged.  “No one knows.  But he got himself switched to Schillinger’s cell.  Heard Verno thought he was gonna have someone shank him in his sleep, instead he had someone sucking his cock.  Beecher’s been with him since.”

            Beecher and Cyril were squaring off and Keller frowned, he had seen how the man could fight, slow or not.  “He won’t hurt him, right?  I’m supposed to be watching him.”

            “Nah, he’s fine.  Cyril knows he’s a prag and he’s gotta be soft with him.”

            “He knows what that means?”

            Ryan pushed off the fence, moving closer to them, “Some things he can just tell.  Come on.  We’ll watch them for a bit so you can see and then we’ll lift some weights, cool?”

            He nodded and moved closer to the fight.  Beecher glanced at Keller, but then only had eyes for Cyril. 

            Ryan made an impatient sound, “Quit dancing already and fight.”

            Immediately Cyril swung and Beecher wasn’t ready, not even close to blocking it, but it only tapped him in the face, Cyril grinning at him.  Beecher responded with a wild swing that Cyril knocked aside easily that spun him to the side.  Beecher resettled his weight, eyes narrowed. 

            Ryan nudged Keller, “See, he’s safe.  Come on.”

            Keller watched him for a moment longer, making a note that he was going to take some time at some point to actually teach him how to fight, because this was just watching Cyril play with him, and joined Ryan by the weights.

 

 

            “That O’Reily, he’s an alright guy?”

            Beecher nodded, but didn’t elaborate.  Keller had checked him over after they were done sparring, making sure that there weren’t any bruises, any injuries.  He watched him walk in front of him for a few moments.

            “You certainly seem to like him.  You fucking him?”

            Toby’s shoulders tensed, and he shot him a fearful glance, “No.  Don’t say stuff like that.  You’ll get someone killed.”  He shuffled forward, “He’s not gay anyways, he doesn’t take prags.”’

            With just that sentence he was sure that Beecher had tried at some point, probably after Schillinger tried to kill him.  Or maybe when he was being pragged.  He reached out to grab his arm and stop him, pushing them near a staircase.  “Why do you hug him like that and you tried to shiv me for grabbing your shirt.”

Toby didn’t try to get around him, or fight, just crossed his arms.  “I don’t like being touched.”

            “I don’t think that’s true Toby.”  He glanced around and still no one was watching, and he crowded him again, grabbed each of his hips and pressed him against the wall.  Beecher’s eyes closed for a moment and he leaned in to the touch but his eyes flew open and he flattened himself against the wall.  “I watch you preen and rub against Vern, I watched you cling to that Mick, you’re desperate for some affection.”

            He had never been able to help himself and his thumbs rubbed circles over Toby’s hip bones, and just as he thought he could see Toby respond, getting hard.  He let go of one hip to reach up wrap his hand around the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair and Toby’s head fell forward on to his shoulder instantly.  He pet him for a few seconds before letting go completely and stepping back. 

            Beecher let out a huff at the loss of contact and muttered, “If you fuck me Vern will kill you.”

            “I’m not looking to fuck you Toby, I’m looking to be a friend.   You could use that right?  A friend?”

            It got his attention and he lifted one shoulder but answered, “Like Ryan?”

            “Sure.”  He took another step back giving him his space, “Come on, let’s get back to the unit.”

            Beecher was clearly still unsure of him and as he walked in front of him he rubbed at his wrist, stopping just outside the door.  “I’ve been here awhile, nobody wants anything for free.  What price does being your friend have?”

            There was hope in his eyes, frantic desperation and Keller had an idea how lonely it had been for the other man.  He could wear his crazy like a mask but he was soft, needy, and Keller knew how to work people like that.  He moved slowly so as not to startle him and slid an arm around his shoulders, getting them moving again.

            “Do what I tell you.  They all think Vern’s the only one that can get you to listen, I want to show them he’s not the only alpha in the pack.”

            “Okay.”  Toby was leaning against him, pressing in to his arm, and Keller barely smothered the grin.  This was too easy.

            “I’m Vern’s though.  I love him.”

            Keller didn’t react, though in his mind he weighed the words.  He wasn’t sure if the smaller man meant them, if he had convinced himself of that or if he had just been trained to by Vern but he nodded anyways. “Just a friend Toby, don’t worry.”

            By the time that Schillinger came back from work Keller and Toby were sitting at one of the tables, playing cards.  Just as he had before as soon as Schillinger was in the room Beecher was on his feet and at his side. 

            He got a warmer response this time, Vern looked at him right away though something seemed to make him hesitate, and he glanced towards Keller.  He grabbed Beecher’s chin and tilted his head up, “What did you do today, prag?”

            “Gym to box with Cyril.”  He turned his head until he was rubbing his cheek against Vern’s hand, “Keller brought me.”

            “Good, glad to see you two getting along so well.”  He let him go and moved into the room, to his cell.  Beecher didn’t seem to notice as Vern glanced at Keller again before he shoved Beecher into the cell.  “Come on bitch.”

            Inside the cell he grabbed Beecher’s shoulder and shoved him down hard, catching him off guard.  Blue eyes tilted up to look at him, confused, but he went down to his knees without any complaint.  “Come on.”  He wasn’t even looking for guards, just yanking his pants down and pulling his dick out.  He grabbed Beecher by the hair before he could even move and yanked him forward.  He opened his mouth out of habit, out of good training, but couldn’t help but gag as Schillinger roughly shoved his cock all the way down his throat.

            “Don’t forget who you belong to prag.”

            Beecher’s hands had come up defensively but forced them back down and worked on controlling his gag reflex, trying to relax his throat enough to take the rough thrusts. 

            From where Keller was sitting it looked like Beecher was being punished, and maybe he had moved on the man a little too hard.  He was just messing around, he wouldn’t try to take Vern’s prag, not the second day he showed up.  Just testing the waters and seeing what there was. 

            Still though.  He saw one of the hacks heading their way, and really Schillinger was going to get caught because he was standing in the middle of his cell.  Keller was on his feet right away, and intercepted the man, trying to ask him about his job assignment.  Anything he could think of.  The hack seemed annoyed but mellow, and Keller kept an eye over his shoulder, watching to see what Vern was doing.

            He couldn’t see really well but it was clear when Vern was done.  He could see him lean over and slap a hand over Beecher’s mouth, yanking his head backwards.  When he pulled his hand away he slapped him in the face hard enough to leave a red mark, and was pulling up his pants.  Beecher stayed on his knees, staring up at Vern, and finally the man looked around.

            Schillinger spotted them instantly, and it was refreshing to see him look startled.  He had let it get to him, his anger, or jealousy, whatever it was and it almost landed him in the hole.  Keller thanked the hack and let him go, watching the man pass Vern without a second look. 

            Schillinger moved to the pool table and Keller met him there, grabbing a stick.  “I’ll rack it.”

            Vern nodded, and finally let out an annoyed sigh, “Thanks Keller, for distracting the hack.”

            “Hey, didn’t want him to ruin your fun.”

            Vern glanced back to the cell where Beecher had curled up on his bunk, head tucked against his knees, and pointed at Keller.  “I know what the fuck you’re doing.  Anyone else pulled that shit and I’d have their balls.”

            “What am I doing exactly?”

            Vern lined up the cue ball and hit it before looking up.  “I know you like to flirt with everything that moves, and fuck it if you can.  I don’t care if you play that shit with him, but you actually touch him Keller, and you’ll pay.  Tell me you understand.”

            “Schillinger, would I touch your prag?”

            “You would.”

            He laughed at that as he played, “I’m here a long time Vern, just killing time.”  He leaned over the table though, he could simper when he had to.  His pride wasn’t bothered by it, he was a survivor, and he could do what he needed to.  “You’re in charge here Vern, I’ve known that since I was 17.  Have I ever gone against what you told me to do?”

            “No.”

            “There you go.  If you want me to lay off talking to him, I can do that.  It’s boring as shit here though.  Today I spent most of it talking to that Mick O’Reily.  Just tell me what you want Vern, I promise you I won’t do shit you don’t want me to do.”

            “That’s right you fuck, don’t forget it.”  Vern rolled his shoulders and then relaxed.  “I’m just too nice to you, Keller.”

            Keller laughed, “You love me, you know it.”

            He snorted at that, “You really are a fuck.  Fine, keep talking to him.  The second he does something to disobey me because you put him up to it you both pay.  Got it?”

            “Do you think he would?”

            Vern frowned for real at that, and Keller had seen the weakness.  Vern may think that he had full control of his prag, but he was worried about Keller luring him away after just a day.  It said a lot.  He distracted him quickly by scratching, letting him chortle and the Aryans that were trickling in give him shit for it.  Over his shoulder Beecher had turned so he could watch them, but his eyes were on him and not Vern.

            Definitely had pushed it too hard too fast, and he was going to have to do something about that.  He didn’t want to get either of them killed, he would just talk to him and make sure that he eased off.  Eased down.  He glared at him until Beecher noticed and quickly his gaze turned to Vern. 

            As it should be.

            Dinner was the same deal, Beecher wandered around the room, and O’Reily handed them two trays.  Schillinger motioned for him to grab it, clearly trying to make a point, and he did so without complaining.  He did speak up though, “Why doesn’t he wait in line?”

            “He got antsy, standing still.  Kept getting into scuffles that the Aryans had to break up.  Just easier to let him go.”

            That sounded like an out of control prag.  But who was he to say so.  They reached the table and Keller dropped Beecher’s tray down like Schillinger had and sat on his left while Schillinger sat on his right.  Beecher was frowning at it, confused, and he looked to Vern.  “Sir?”

            “What?”  Vern was already eating his food, but Beecher was just looking at the tray.  He glanced at Keller once, but the only had eyes for Vern. 

            “You didn’t...”  He trailed off when Vern didn’t pay him any mind and shoved his tray forward, folding his arms on the table and staring at Vern.

            It took the man a few minutes to notice, or, well, Keller figured he noticed but was intentionally ignoring him.  But eventually he looked at him, “Why aren’t you eating, bitch?”

            Beecher shoved at the tray again and stared at it.  “You didn’t bring it.”

            “Your buddy Keller brought it, prag.”

            Beecher’s mouth was set in a pout and he shook his head,  “I don’t want it.”

            Vern was giving him more attention now, taking a bite out of the apple in his hand, chewing thoughtfully.  “Eat your food, prag.”

            Toby shook his head stubbornly.  Vern watched him for a moment before he handed him the apple he had been eating and Toby took it quickly, happily munching away on it.  Vern finally laughed, “You are one messed up bitch, Toby.”  He ruffled his hair affectionately, pushing his tray over to Toby and taking the one he wouldn’t eat off of.

            Keller was usually so good at reading people but was struggling deciding if what Beecher had just done was an act or not.  Was he really that upset that it hadn’t been Schillinger that got his tray?

            Before they even left the cafeteria Beecher’s fingers were wrapped around Vern’s belt, bumping in to him as they walked, rubbing against him like a cat.  That night Keller didn’t watch them when they fucked, the whimpers and pleading that he could just hear was more than enough to know what was going on. 

“You want to go to the gym with me Toby?”

            Toby was curled up on his bunk, reading a book, but he looked up at Keller.  “No thank you.”

            “Come on, I’ll show you how to fight for a bit.  Teach you how to actually throw a punch instead of just take one.”

            “No thank you.”

            Keller leaned against the door, and couldn’t help scan his eyes up and down Beecher, “Is this because of yesterday?”

            “I don’t want to go to the gym.”  He averted his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

            “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble Beech, I told Vern that I wasn’t doing anything.  He knows me.”

            “He told me that it was okay to spend time with you.”  Beecher looked up and was starting to look unsure, “I don’t know if it is a good idea.  He was mad yesterday, but I didn’t do anything.”

            “No you didn’t.” 

“I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Keller knew he was going to have to have some give here, “I was stepping over the line a little, Schillinger knows this about me.  It’s all okay though, him and I talked and I won’t get you in trouble again.  Okay?  Come on, I don’t want to be a schmuck at the gym all by himself.”

            Finally Beecher nodded, pushing off the bed, and giving Keller a shy look as they headed towards the gym.  He kept his distance though, mindful of what his actions would do. 

            There were more people when they got to the gym than last time, and from the way that Beecher hesitated before he moved closer to him, tilting his head down, he guessed that they weren’t anyone that he knew.  A few glanced his way, but nobody kept looking, and Keller was impressed despite himself.

            “What do you want to do?”

            “Want me to teach you to box?”

            He looked sideways at him and touched the wall next to him before he shook his head, “I don’t want you to touch me.  Please.”

            “Okay, that’s okay.”

            Beecher’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t expected that answer and he gave him the most reassuring smile he could.  “I’m your friend here Beech, remember?  I thought you would want to learn how to fight so you don’t get your ass kicked by O’Reily’s brother, but if you don’t care I don’t care.”

            “He doesn’t kick my ass.”

            “Hmm.”  He stepped close to Beecher, grinning.

            Beecher whirled on him and shoved him back, “Too close.”

            He only chuckled at that and reached out to grab Beecher’s shirt sleeve and spin him towards the weights, giving him a little shove.  Though Beecher indignantly straightened his shirt he didn’t complain and headed in the direction that Keller sent him, and yea, he noticed people watching that. 

            “Go on, lay down on the bench, I’ll spot you.”

            Now Beecher looked unsure as he glanced around at the other people and tilted his head down.  “You lift.”

            “Come on.”  He nudged him with a foot until he nodded and laid down on the bench, watching Keller set it up.  Beecher made a distressed sound when Keller picked up the weights.

            Quietly he spoke up, “I can’t lift that Keller.”

            “Sure you can.”

            Beecher watched him put the weights on and looked up to meet his eyes, “You’re trying to humiliate me.”

            “What?”  He settled the weights and looked down at him, and realized he was serious.  “What are you talking about?”

            Beecher pursed his lips, glancing around at the people watching them again, “I can’t lift that.  You just want to make fun of me.”

            Keller glanced at the weights, he didn’t think they were that much.  He could lift 4 times that much.  “Want me to take some of the weight off?  Though I think you can lift it.” 

            “Please.”  Keller pulled off some of the weight, and Beecher’s eyes were locked on him but he could see the people chuckling around them.  Laughing at Beecher, at what they were doing and he had to fight the urge to glare them all down.           

            Beecher either didn’t notice them, or didn’t care, or really was probably so used to it at this point that he had gotten good at ignoring it.  Though he was still eyeing the weights suspiciously he laid back when Keller told him to and he reached up to grab the bar.

            Keller automatically reached down and grabbed his hands, pulling them farther apart on the bar and changing how he was holding it.  How had no one taught him the proper way to lift weights in his life.  Weren’t high priced lawyer types supposed to go to gyms and have personal trainers and stuff. 

            “Ready?”

            “Yea.”  He sounded so unhappy Keller had to repress the urge to laugh, sure that it wouldn’t go over well. 

            “Alright then, go ahead.”  He placed his hands palm up under the bar as Beecher lifted it, making sure that he had a handle on it.  The other man hadn’t been wrong, he could feel the muscles in his arms strain even with the smaller amount of weight on it. 

            “There you go, you got it.”

            He was trying though.  He tried to set it down after a few reps and Keller shook his head, and he kept going.  When he started to strain, to struggle, and his face was contorted with effort Keller held it a little more, taking some of the weight off, letting him keep going.

            It didn’t go unnoticed by him like this, spotting Beecher, that the man’s face was right near his crotch.  That all his huffing and puffing as he worked and that mouth was only inches from his dick.  Finally he let him set it down, and gave him a push to get him sitting up.  “How you feel?”

            He rubbed his arm and shrugged.  Keller nodded and nudged him out of the way.  “Okay, I’ll lift now and you spot me.”  He added more weights, slightly more than he usually would of but he was in the mood to show off.  Beecher was eyeing it with concern and leaned in closer to Keller as he finished setting it up.  “I can’t spot you.  I can’t stop that from falling on you.”

            “Don’t worry, I don’t really need a spotter.”  He winked and slid onto the bench, getting into position, raising an eyebrow at Beecher when he just stood there staring at him.  “Spot me.”

            He had barked the words out like an order and Beecher stumbled into action, mumbling an apology as he took the spot Keller had been in, putting his hands under the bar.  Keller tilted his head back so he was looking up at Beecher and intentionally let out a huff of air across the other man’s crotch and was rewarded with Beecher twisting his body to the side, blushing.

            As he lifted up the weight, taking a moment to appreciate the awe on Beecher’s face when he did it easily, he thought about Beecher telling him that he couldn’t get him off or Vern would kill him.  Did it count if he got Beecher off?  That thought made him grin, he could already imagine how easily Beecher would succumb to that, was sure he would drive him absolutely crazy with just a few touches. 

            Just as he was about to finish the weights he lifted it, and let it drop a few inches like he had let go, just to watch Beecher scramble to grab it, surprised and frantic.

            Beecher’s hand wrapped around it but Keller had already stopped it and he grinned up at Beecher’s flustered face.  “Gotcha.”

            “You...”  Beecher looked like he was floundering with what he wanted to call him, and a glance up at the people around him and he realized it wasn’t just because he couldn’t come up with the words.  “Spot yourself!”

            He did chuckle as he set the weights down on the bar, and watched Beecher take off, sulking.  Not too far though, that was the game he had to play as a prag he supposed, Beecher could be as pissed as he wanted but he had to stick nearby. 

            He took off the weights, taking his time to get them settled away as Beecher paced the edge of the gym.  When he finally was finished he headed towards him stopping a few feet away from where the man was angrily moving.  “Beech?”

            “I want to go back to Unit B.”

            “Yea, I can tell.”  He waited, “Come here.”

            Beecher’s head came up and he eyed him but he didn’t protest, coming to stand in front of him and looking up, jaw locked and arms crossed.

            “You need to relax.  It was a joke.  No reason to get your panties in a twist.”

            “I want to go back to Vern.”

            Keller eyed him for a moment before he snorted, “Lead the way, prag.”

            Beecher didn’t glance back at him once on the way to Unit B, and Keller made no effort to talk to him.  Or touch him.  This was about undoing some of what he had done the day before, about making sure the prag wanted his owner and only his owner, and he had to admit that he was pretty good at it.

            Once they were back at the unit he stopped by Toby’s cell and tossed him a deck of cards, and barely ducked when he chucked them back at him.  “Woah.”   Keller leaned against the door way, “That time of the month?”

            “Fuck off.”

            “Why didn’t you say that in the gym, huh?  No name calling, no lip.”

            Beecher’s mouth twisted as he curled up on his bunk and looked down at his shoes.  “Vern would kick my ass if I talked like that to an Aryan where other groups could hear.  He doesn’t care about it here.”

            Okay, maybe he hadn’t been giving Vern enough credit for how well Beecher was trained.  He nodded and pushed away from the cell, thinking over what he had seen over the last two days in this context.  He was halfway back to the pool table when he headed back to the cell, “I have some things to do.  You okay to stay here by yourself.”

            Beecher nodded without looking at him, holding a pillow to his chest as he stared at the wall, and mumbled out, “M’safe in the unit.”

            “Okay.”

            Three days was enough time for him to settle, now he had to start doing some poking around and seeing what was out there.  The first stop he wanted to make was talking to O’Reily.  He had a feeling there was more to the Mick than met the eye, especially with the way he was with Beecher and he was sure he could have an ally there.

            He found a hack, “Hey, I’m dying here without a job assignment.  Isn’t there anything I can do?”

            The man eyed him and then shrugged, “Library?”

            He couldn’t stop from rolling his eyes at that, but he nodded, “Sure, I guess.”

            With any luck he’d find someone that he could talk to there, or on the way, or at least get a better idea of the prison.  Just before he left he glanced back one more time at the cell where Beecher was held up, tempted to go see if he wanted to go too.  He pushed that urge down, and the pang of some feeling that came with it.  Time to start working on starting some shit.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

            The days went on the same like that.  Keller stayed away from Beecher, when the man asked him to go to the gym he turned him down, sending him out of his cell when he stood around and pouted.  He wasn’t really trying to push him away, but he had things he had to work on and he had no time for prags hanging off of him.

            He learned a lot in those few days though, including that O’Reily may not be as much of an ally as Vern Schillinger thought.  In fact, it had become apparent to him fairly quickly that the mick hated him.  It turned out when his brother had arrived the Aryans had planned on raping him, but Toby had been the one to convince Vern that it would be better to protect him, to gain O’Reily as an ally, and Schillinger had agreed.  It explained why Ryan was so fond of Beecher and now he just had to figure out how to use that.

            They had promised him the next week he would have his job assignment, so now that he’d started the ground work, he had other things to pay attention to.  He found Beecher where he had been the last few days, curled up on his bunk.

            “Beech.  Come on, I’m gonna teach ya some boxing today.”

            “No thank you.”

            He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be bitchy because I’ve been busy the last few days, come on.”  When Beecher still didn’t budge he moved into the cell, directly in front of him.  “Don’t make me drag you out of that bunk, it will just be embarrassing.”

            “I don’t want to go with you.”

            “You’ve asked me for days to go.”

            “Fuck off  Keller.”

            He whipped out his hand to grab Beecher’s foot and yanked him forward, dragging him off the bunk until there was no more bunk and he landed with an oomph on the ground.  Beecher snarled at him, showing his teeth as he rocked up to his knees, but he didn’t go for his shiv.

            Kneeling in front of him there he couldn’t help it, his hand darted out and slid through Beecher’s hair, twisting his fingers in it until the man gasped and tilted his head back.  He held him there, his dick twitching before he let him go with a little shove.

            “Come on, about time you learned to fight, don’t you think?”

            When he let him go Beecher scrambled to his feet, backing until he was pressed against his bed and showed teeth again, “Touch me like that again and I’ll bite your fingers off.”  
            Tsking Keller turned his back, not worried.  He did throw over his shoulder, “Come on, let’s go.  Or I’m going to let Vern know that you are threatening to bite, and I’m certain that is a big no no.”

            Beecher was at his side fast, and grabbed at his shirt to stop him.  Keller slowed and then turned to face him, walking backwards as he waited.  Beecher tried to stop but was forced to keep moving when Keller didn’t.  “I didn’t bite you.”

            “Don’t want that bit in, do you?”

            “I’m already coming, you can knock it off.”  Beecher’s hand twisted harder in Keller’s shirt and he stopped moving, forcing Keller to either yank his hand off or stop.  He knew what he should do but he stopped instead.  “You aren’t going to tell him.”

            They watched each other until Beecher dropped his hand and Keller grinned.  He threw his arm over his shoulders, and liked the way he felt under his hand.  Beecher didn’t lean against him but he didn’t fight it either.  “O’Reily is gonna be at the gym.” 

            “Yea?”

            Beecher hid the excitement poorly, though in his defense the bikers and the Nazis didn’t usually pay attention much to prags.  He leaned in close, whispering in Beecher’s ear, “Hey, you know that I’m not a Nazi, right?”

            Beecher was shaking his head, not looking at him.  “Don’t say stuff like that.”

            “In fact, I’m more Irish than I am Aryan, and I’ve been... making some friends.  Exploring my... ya know.  Culture.”

            Blue eyes did look up at him this time, trying to read his face.  A biker was heading in their direction and Beecher switched his gaze to him, waiting until the man looked at him and he suddenly lunged away from Keller, baring his teeth and snapping them at him.  The biker yelped and slammed into the wall, backing away.

            “Crazy fucking bitch.”

            The man gave them one backwards look before stomping off, and Keller watched Beecher follow the man with his eyes until he was out of sight.  He made a content sound and turned back the way they were going, slipping easily back under Keller’s arm.

            “What the fuck was that all about?”

            “Nothing.  Just... never mind.”

            “Is that what helps you protect yourself?  Being crazy?”

            Beecher grinned a little but when he looked up at Keller it was gone.  “Vern protects me.  The Aryans protect me.  The bikers protect me.  The Irish protect me.”  He tilted his head a little and Keller saw the intelligence there even if it was quickly covered up.  “I’m as safe as could be.  I’m just crazy because I’m crazy.”

            The same ritual as before happened in the gym, though this time O’Reily was ready for it and caught him with both arms, wrapping one around the back of Beecher’s head and holding it against his shoulder.  He leaned his head down and spoke to Beecher, and Keller watched the man nod his head against Ryan again.  Only then did Ryan look up at him and nod, and he really wanted to know what they talked about.  He was going to ask Beecher about it at some point, not yet, he’d wait until he had him a little more wrapped around his finger.

            “O’Reily.”

            “You here to lift weights?”

            Keller shook his head and then carefully, eyeing O’Reily, he reached out to grab Beecher’s sleeve and pull him away.  Beecher startled and he watched Ryan’s hand tighten for a second as he scanned Keller’s face, trying to read it.  Maybe looking for intent.  Oh, Beecher wasn’t wrong about that, the Irish would protect him, and not because they gave a fuck about Schillinger.

            “Just gonna teach him to box a bit, maybe be able to give your brother a real fight.”

            Ryan let go and Beecher looked unsure about what was happening but gave in and headed in the direction that Keller pushed him, leaving Keller and Ryan standing off with each other.  Ryan glanced at Beecher and then back to Keller.  “Better be all you’re doing.”

            Beecher was out of hearing distance and Keller winked at him, “Don’t worry so much.”  
            He felt Ryan’s eyes on him, but he wasn’t worried.  They had talked, and they were at least relatively on the same page.  Beecher was waiting for him and held up gloves.  Keller waved them off, “We’ll just use the bag okay, work on some basic blocks.  Keep you from getting bitch slapped.”

            To emphasize his words he abruptly moved, tapping Beecher in the face, making him stumble and scowl.  “See?  Now come on, quit glaring at me and get over here.  You need all the help you can get.”

            It turned out that was true and after a couple minutes, a couple minutes where he realized he didn’t really know how to teach someone how to fight, the O’Reily brothers came over to help.  By the time they headed back he couldn’t really say that Beecher had improved, but at least he knew how to block, and that was progress.

            Instead of an arm around the shoulders Keller grabbed at the back of his neck, thumb rubbing along his hairline.  More possessive than his other touch, and he waited to see what Beecher would do under it. 

            He tensed at first but then he settled in to it.  Keller was just grinning at him, enjoying the touch when they made it in to unit B, and were met with Schillinger standing there, looking pissed. 

            Keller knew him well, and could see that his face was covered in murder, but what really told him the extent was that next to him Beecher dropped to his knees, ducking his head and hunching his shoulders. 

            Schillinger stumbled as he did so, though, and looked just as startled to see him there.  He looked to Keller, “I thought you were at the gym.”

            “I’m sorry sir, I’m sorry.  I should have been here.”

            “What?”  Schilling moved up in front of him and reached out, gripping his hair just hard enough to tilt his head back, “What are you babbling about?”

            Keller was just starting to realize that the anger on the man’s face had nothing to do with them, and he eased away a few steps, hoping to keep it that way.  Schillinger didn’t notice, eyes only for Toby.

            “I should have been here when you came back, sir, I’m sorry sir.”

            “Jesus, prag.”  He grabbed Beecher’s arm and pulled him to his feet, “I had a surprise visit.  Not a good one.”  He let go of his arm to stroke the side of Beecher’s face, “Calm down, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

            Beecher was still sniffling, still trying to get close to Vern, and Keller figured he should probably speak up.  “He knew we were at the gym working on boxing Beech, he’s the one that wanted you to learn.”

            Which wasn’t entirely true, but Keller had done a good job of making Vern think it had been his idea.  He shrugged his shoulders, “He’s a sensitive one, Vern.”  He forced the words to be mocking, teasing, even though he wasn’t really feeling it.  He didn’t exactly feel bad about making fun of Beecher, but it did feel like betrayal for him to be talking with Vern about him behind his back.

            “I got to go make a few phone calls.  My asshole of a father can’t find my boys, and won’t even lift a god damn finger to find someone that can.”

            “I know people.”

            Vern had been about to move past them, but he stopped and looked at Beecher, “What?”

            Beecher moved closer to Vern, non-verbally demanding more attention from him and he did the same thing that Chris had, wrapping his hand around the back of Beecher’s neck.  Beecher sighed a little before speaking, “My old firm.  We have private investigators.  I can ask my dad to have them look for Andy and Hank.”

            Keller wasn’t sure what Beecher said that set Vern off but he watched the fingers tighten around the back of Beecher’s neck until there would be bruises and he leaned in close to Beecher’s face, “You want to meet with your father do you?”

            “No.”  Beecher didn’t struggle, just leaned further in to Vern, “No, please, I don’t.  But I will if it will help you, sir.”

            The fingers tightened a bit more before letting go with a small tug on his hair.  “Maybe you can call him.  I don’t want that fuck in Oz, not after what he tried to do Tobias.  Or do you want to be moved to another unit again?”

            “No.”  He shook his head vehemently, “No, sir.”

            “Go.”  He let him go and Beecher bolted for their cell.

            Keller raised his eyebrows, “What is that all about?”

            “Last time he met with his father, he didn’t like the way Beecher sounded.  Convinced the warden to move him to another unit.”

            “What happened?”

            Vern looked at him and his face was dark, “He was gang raped by the homeboys.”  Vern turned back to look at Beecher curled up on the top bunk, _his_ bunk, and shrugged.  “McManus moved him back here after that and I killed every fucker that touched him.”  He glanced up at the clock, “Fuck.  I don’t know how long this is going to take.  Keep an eye on him.”

            He pushed past Keller, hurrying out of the unit.  He waited until others had come back, that there were witnesses before he went to talk to Beecher.  He was still wrapped up in Vern’s blanket, clutching Vern’s pillow, and he looked the way that Keller imagined he had when he first got in to Oz.  “You okay?”

            “Yes.”  He curled in tighter in to his blankets.

            “Vern doesn’t care that you’re on his bunk?”

            He shook his head, “No.”

            “Want to come out and play pool?”

            Beecher looked at him and then then table before he shook his head, “Not allowed to.”

            “Hey, Keller.”  Robson was leaning against the table, “Come play pool.”  Keller nodded but his eyes lingered on Beecher.  Robson made an annoyed sigh, “You won’t get him out of there, not when he’s like that.  Fuck that bitch, come and play.”

            He pushed off the bars and towards the table, flipping off Robson as he yanked the stick out of his hand that he was holding out to him.  “If you’re that eager to lose, Robson.”

            “Spending an awful lot of time with Vern’s prag, aren’t ya?”

            Keller lined up the cue ball, “Just researching.  Trying to decide if I’m gonna prag you or Mack.”

            They had been playing for a half hour or so when the unit manager came in to the room, looking around like something was wrong.  His eyes landed on Beecher and he headed straight for the cell.  Vern was nowhere around and whatever the man was going to tell Beecher looked like it was serious.  He handed off his stick to Mack, ignoring their complaints and went to intervene in what was happening.

            McManus was already at the cell when Keller arrived and he barely gave him a sideways look, “Buzz off Keller.”

            “Everything okay?”  He looked past McManus, “Toby?”

            Toby was staring at the man like he was a ghost, and whatever he was expecting it was not going to be good.  McManus started to tell him to go again when Toby spoke up.

            “He’s fine.  What’s wrong?”  He glanced at Keller, “He only comes to your cell when something is wrong.”

            The man nodded, “I don’t know how to tell you this Beecher.  Your wife... she’s dead.  She killed herself.”

            It was a shitty way to tell someone something like that, especially if McManus knew that Beecher was a prag, knew that he wouldn’t have any privacy to deal with it, but the man just stared at Toby as he stared back until he shrugged.  “If you need anything, let us know.”  And with that he headed back towards his office, leaving Beecher looking like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

            Keller glanced at the other Aryans, seeing if any of them were going to do anything, but they barely paid him any mind.  He only hesitated for a second before he went in the cell and reached out to him.   “Come here Toby.”

            There was no hesitation as he scrambled off the bed into Keller’s arms, wrapping his hands around his waist and burying his face against his chest, sobbing.

            “Shh, shh, it’s okay.”  He pulled him in close, cupping the back of his head as he sunk down onto the bottom bunk, letting Beecher curl around him. 

            This did get the attention of the other Aryans and he wasn’t surprised when Mack was at the edge of the cell, nervous.  Their leaders’ prag was sobbing, having a breakdown, and now they were interested.  Or worried.

            “What’s going on?”

Keller looked over Beecher’s head, and gave Mack a look like he was a moron.  “Go get Vern, you fuck.”

Mack reared back a little, surprised and snapped out, “You don’t give me orders.”

Robson appeared over his shoulder though and swore, “What the fuck happened to him?”  He gave Mack a shove, “Go find Vern.  Now.”

Keller rocked him back and forth, trying to calm the sobs before the hacks decided to do something about it, until there was too much commotion and others came to investigate.  Robson started to step back but Keller made an abrupt movement at him.  “Stay right the fuck there, I don’t want to be accused of doing something to his prag.  You’re my witness mother fucker, got it?”

Robson nodded, shoulders relaxed as he watched, and despite that they were dicks the sound of Beecher’s cries were enough to get to them and Robson clearly looked unhappy.  Chris used his hold on the back of his head to turn Beecher’s face more into his shoulder, trying to muffle him. 

            He hoped Vern would make it back quickly, or at least part of him did.  The other part held Beecher close and enjoyed the body clinging to him, getting to touch him this much.  Getting to be the one that comforted him. 

            Vern didn’t get back, not for a while and by the time Mack made his way back with Vern the worst of it was over.  Beecher was cried out, exhausted, and the tears had stopped, leaving Beecher just huffing warm pants of air against his neck.

            Schillinger’s eyes landed on Beecher and looked worried.  “Toby?”

            His head turned to Vern and he struggled to get up, weak from the crying, and Chris helped him up to his feet.  Beecher pressed his face against Vern, grabbing on to his shirt with both hands.  Schillinger touched the back of his head, “Toby?”  When there was no answer, just more clinging he pushed him into the cell.  Chris tried to move around them, give them space, but Schillinger reached out to grab his arm.

            “What happened?”

            “McManus stopped by, told him that his wife is dead.  That she killed herself.”

            Vern nodded, “Thanks for taking care of him Keller.” 

            He gave him a quick nod and got out of there, leaving Schillinger to comfort his prag.  He could see him talking soft to him, watched him help Beecher up in to the top bunk and tucked the blanket around him, like the most fucked up version of a parent ever.    He talked to him for a few more minutes until Beecher’s eyes closed and once it looked like he was asleep Vern rubbed his hand over his face, moving back out in to the common room.

            Robson nodded towards him, “Everything okay?”

            “Yea.”  Vern sounded unfocused, “You know how bitches are, got himself all worked up.”  The words lacked heat though, and even though he took a pool stick he looked distracted, glancing back at his cell. 

            Vern scratched twice in a row before he shoved the stick at Robson, “I don’t feel like fucking playing.”  He moved to the far wall, leaning against it.  Keller handed his stick off to Mack and went to lean against the wall next to him.

            Schillinger glanced at him, but ignored him.  Keller eased over on his shoulder until he was facing him, “I wasn’t trying to over step any bounds, Vern.  He was losing it.”

            Schillinger waved a hand at him, “Yea, I know.  I’m glad you were here, none of these fucks would have known what to do.”

            He wanted to ask how he was, but he knew no matter what Vern was saying he had to back off.  Eventually he would think about Beecher curled up with him on a bunk, but as long as he stayed backed off it should be fine.  Instead he shrugged, “I didn’t know he was married.”

            “Divorced.  He hasn’t seen her in, shit, 2  years.  She visited him once, and that was it.”   

            Keller glanced back at him and then at Vern, and he wanted to ask why it was such a big deal, that if he hadn’t seen her in so long why he cared, but it wasn’t his place.  That was between him and Vern.  “He got kids?”

            Vern nodded, and again Keller was struck with what he didn’t know about this man.  Vern glanced at the cell before looking back to the table.  “Three.  Two boys and a girl.  He doesn’t see them, his wife didn’t think they should come visit.”

            “You would have let him see them?”  
            Vern waved a hand dismissively, “I don’t care if prags want to see their families as long as they keep their mouths shut about what is happening.  I told him to see his kids.”

            Keller suspected that Beecher hadn’t wanted his kids to see him like he was.  Broken and crazy and only able to hold it together by buying completely into whatever it was he was doing.  “Makes sense, he doesn’t want them to see him like this.  He gonna be okay?”

            “Enough with the questions Keller, jesus.”  Vern pushed off the wall and snatched the pool stick back from Robson, and he wondered what button he had pushed exactly.  There was something there and suddenly Keller had something to occupy his time.

 


	4. Chapter 4

            The next day he had planned to comfort Toby some more, try to find out some information about him, but it turned out they had finally gotten him transferred and when they all headed out to work he went with them.  He wished he had more time alone with Toby, not to do anything he wasn’t supposed to, he reminded himself.  Just to talk to the other man.  He was intrigued by him. 

            There was a benefit of starting work duty though, he would be out delivering the mail and it gave him access to all of Oz, he got to go everywhere.  It would be good for connections, and he kept careful track of where everyone was.  In Em City O’Reily and Vern exchanged friendly nods, but him and Ryan exchanged a more meaningful look.  As Vern handed out mail O’Reily spoke low to Keller, telling him who some of the people he should know were.

            “Keller, get a fucking move on.”

            For a second Keller loss control of his face, his rage at being ordered around but it was gone as fast it was there, and he was sure even O’Reily hadn’t seen it.  He just nodded and sauntered back to the cart, making an effort to go as slow as possible.  It only made Vern roll his eyes, and they started to head out when Ryan jogged up to them. 

            “Hey, Schillinger, Cyril wants to box with Toby this afternoon, that work?”

            “Sure.”

            O’Reily winked and grinned and heading back in to Em City and they were halfway down the hallway when Vern spoke, barely even paying attention to him.  “Can you bring Beech, I have some things I need to deal with this afternoon.”

            “Sure thing, Vern.”

            Vern nodded, a distracted smile his way, but then he looked back up.  “I know he’s learning to box, he just doesn’t need to know that much, got it?”

            They were moving and Keller knew he shouldn’t push it, but whatever was distracting Vern so much was making it easy to do.  “Thought maybe we’d work on wrestling instead.”

            “Yea, sure. Whatever.”

            He didn’t want to dwell on it, didn’t want Vern to overthink it, so he asked, “What do you got to do?”

            “Meeting with my dad.”  They stopped their cart outside of medical and Vern dropped a bundle of mail off, sneering at a few of the inmates there.  “About the kids.”  He shifted uncomfortably, “Not sure if I should have Toby’s dad help or not.”

            “Couldn’t hurt.”  Another part of the plan fell into place and Keller looked through the mail just to cover it up, “It is your kids.  I’m sure Beecher can pull it together long enough for one phone call, yea?”

            “Yea.”

            The rest of the morning was boring, delivering mail and then lunch.  Toby was curled up in his bunk and Vern left him there.  It did occur to him that maybe Beecher wouldn’t want to go to the gym, upset like he was.  He couldn’t be sure, because it wasn’t always easy to hear between the cells, but he was pretty certain that Vern had tried to fuck him the night before and Beecher had said no... and Vern hadn’t. 

            Which was interesting, though he supposed even someone like Vern had to have some kind of compassion.  Schillinger left for his meeting when they got back, and Keller waited a few minutes before he went to the cell, eyeing Beecher wrapped up in the blankets like a burrito.

            Beecher looked to him when he walked up, and he was preparing for how he was going to convince him to get up, convince him to go, but Beecher unwound himself from the blankets and stared at him, waiting.

            “I saw O’Reily today while delivering mail, he asked Vern if you could come box with Cyril this afternoon.  Vern asked me if I could bring you, you want to go to the gym?”

            Beecher eyed him carefully, and then tilted his head, “With you?”

            It was a struggle to keep his voice calm, to not sound excited, to not sound _smug_.  He leaned his shoulder further into the wall, “Will it make a difference if it is with me or with someone else?”

            Like it was nothing Toby was nodding, his face open and he wasn’t trying to cover anything up.  “Yes.”

            The word sounded good to his ears, and it was easy to forget that he was supposed to be backing off, “And what difference does it make Toby?”

            He was pushing him, waiting to see if he would take the bait, and he caught Beecher looking past him to the common room, looking to see where the other Aryans were and he had the feeling he was going to like this answer.

            Toby slid out of the bed and moved until he was almost touching Chris, looking up at him.  “Thank you, for yesterday.”

            It wasn’t what Keller was expecting and he shrugged his shoulder, “Just trying to help you keep your shit straight, I know I’m no Vern-”

            “No, you aren’t.” 

            Keller’s cock twitched at Beecher’s tone, at his look, because even without trying he had managed to hook Vern’s prag.  He scrubbed a hand over his face and took a step back.  “The difference, remember?”

            Beecher looked a little confused that Keller had retreated and he could see the effort it took for him to focus again.  “I want to go to the gym with you.  If one of them is bringing me I’m going back to bed.”  The warmth in the words was gone, and Keller wanted to grab him so he could hear it again, but patience was a virtue.  And the long con had always come easy to him.

            “Well alright then Toby, let’s get a move on.”  He stepped back and waved his hand, indicating for Beecher to lead the way.

            Toby didn’t meet his eyes as he moved around him, heading towards the exit.  Keller reached out at the last second and grabbed Beecher’s arm, stopping him, and let his thumb stroke over the sensitive skin on the inside of his elbow.  His lips twitched in a smile before he dropped his hand and when Beecher started to move again he stayed tucked much closer to Keller.  Just as he had known he would.

            They were almost to the gym and Beecher must have been thinking about what he said because he suddenly spoke up, “Ryan asked Sir?  Directly?”

            “Yup.”  Keller glanced sideways and saw Toby chewing on his lip, looking concerned, and his opinion of the prag’s intelligence jumped a little bit.  “Is something wrong?”

            “No.  They are allies.  Nothing wrong.”  The words were too quick and Keller nodded to himself, pleased that apparently Toby knew that Ryan didn’t really like Vern, that there was no actual respect there, and he shouldn’t be too surprised. 

            O’Reily wasn’t in the gym yet and Beecher started to head towards the weights but Keller grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the mats instead.  “Come on, I told Vern I was going to try some wrestling with you.”

            “I wanted to box more.”  He looked down, suddenly shy.  “I like learning how to hit.”

            “I’ll teach you how to grapple, come on.  You’ll like it.”

            Though Toby seemed hesitant he followed him to the mat and they stood off with each other, Toby carefully eyeing his stance, trying to mimic it.  He gave him a few basic rules to go with and then called a ready.  “The key is to grab the other guy’s waist, pull him on top of you and then spin him around at the last second so you can pin him.”  He met his eyes just before he said go, smirk pulled across his mouth, and when he called it he plowed straight in to Toby, grappling with him and took him down hard to the mat, knocking the wind out of him and pinning him down.

            He struggled against him for a moment and Keller was close enough to see real fear cross his face and he backed up quickly, grabbing his arm to pull him back up with him.  He tried not to laugh at the look on his face, “You okay?  Too much?”

            Though Toby eyed him nervously he nodded.  “Yea.  Let’s do it again.”  He licked his lips and eyed the mat.  “Slower.”

            “As slow as you’d like Toby.”  He took a few seconds to enjoy the blush that his words caused and then he called it again.  This time he took a different approach and grabbed Beecher around the waist and slammed him down on his back, shoving his knee in between his legs to help pin him down to the mat, leaving them pressed intimately together.  He didn’t stay there long enough for Beecher to get nervous, just pulled him back up to his feet and barked out, “Again.”

            This time when they hit together he let Beecher get the upper hand, they tumbled to the mat with him on his hands and knees, one of Beecher’s arms around his waist, the other on his arm, trying to get him to the ground to pin him.  There is no way in hell he’d be able to do it, but Keller let it go on and was surprised when Beecher huffed in his ear.

            “You’re letting me win.”

            He laughed, still holding the stance, “No I’m not.”

            “Yes you are.”

            He felt Toby’s grip loosen and he moved quickly, grabbing his arm out from under him and yanking so Toby ended up flat on his stomach under him, but that wasn’t how you pinned in wrestling so he grabbed one of his legs to flip him on to his back, letting his hand slide up his inner thigh until he half groped him, moving it fast enough to pin him that it looked like an accident.

            Beecher scrambled away a little faster that time, looking slightly confused, unsure.  Keller didn’t push him, just pulled off his shirt and waited, “You done?  A few pins and you’re giving up?”

            “No.”  Though he glanced around like he was embarrassed he pulled off his shirt.  He still had on an under shirt, he wasn’t sure why he was so shy and he started to  move into his stance but Keller stepped forward.  “We’ll try a different one, get down on your hands and knees.”

            They stared at each other for at least a minute while Beecher looked like he was waiting to be told that Keller was pulling his leg.  He finally glanced away, “What?”

            “Come on.”  He grabbed his arm and tugged him forward, “You’ve seen the stance in wrestling, get down.” 

            One more nervous glance up and then Beecher got down on his hands and knees, head hanging a little.  Keller knelt down behind him, one arm around his side with his hand over his stomach, the other holding his left wrist and he wanted to press hard against his ass, it would be the proper way to do the hold but he didn’t want to scare him away.  He could already feel that he was tense.   “Go.” 

            After that Beecher didn’t question him again and when he pulled off his shirt, Toby did the same, and they grappled on the floor, his handing sliding over him, and finally he let Toby flip him on to his back, his arm under his chin, pinning him there while he panted.

            “You got me.”

            There was an elated grin on Beecher’s face and though he had planned on spinning them around, showing Beecher that he didn’t really have him, he didn’t want to ruin that smile.  It turned out he didn’t need to, as soon as the grin appeared it was gone, wariness and fear crossing Beecher’s face as he scrambled off Keller and grabbed his shirt.  He turned his back to Keller and pulled it on, grabbing his sweatshirt and clutching it to him.

            Keller pushed up on his elbows, “You okay Toby?”

            “I don’t think Ryan’s coming, can we go back?”

            The change was so sudden Chris couldn’t figure out what had happened.  He glanced around at the people in the gym but no one was really paying them any attention.  “Toby, what happened?”

            “Please?”  He clutched the sweatshirt tighter to him and was blushing, refusing to look at Chris and suddenly he had an idea of what was going on. 

            “Okay.”  He nimbly got to his feet, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on, and while Beecher was distracted he grabbed the sweat shirt and yanked it out of his hands.

            An indignant yelp came from Beecher as he tried to grab for it but was too slow and yup, that was what Chris had thought.  He stalked towards him, but not close enough to touch, just enough that he could lower his voice so only he would hear him.  “You’re freaking out because you got hard?”

            Beecher’s eyes snapped up to his, embarrassed and angry, and yea, still afraid.  When he reached for the sweatshirt Chris let him have it and he held it in front of him and broke the eye contact.  “Sir is going to beat the shit out of me if he finds out.”

            “Finds out what Toby?  I told him we were gonna wrestle, you just got hard, it’s not like we fucked.  You can’t help it if rolling around on the ground with someone gets you excited.”

            “I’m not...”  He made an awkward movement, “Please don’t tell him.”

            Keller chuckled and wrapped a hand around Beecher’s upper arm and he didn’t miss the way Beecher clutched the sweatshirt closer to him, the flush renewing itself.  “Believe me, it wasn’t high on my list to mention.  Don’t get so worked up okay, we were just having some fun.  Just some wrestling, it ain’t sex.”

            Beecher nodded, but not like he agreed, and he let himself be pulled along.  He was quiet and docile, and it distracted Keller from wondering why O’Reily had never showed up.  It must have been something important, and it had given him time to wrestle with Toby, so that was a plus.  Eventually he let go of his arm and Toby stayed at his side. 

            Chris eyed him a few times, because he was tempted to pull him into one of the side hallways, something just out of eye sight, and shove his hand down his pants, tugging on his dick.  Beecher would lose his mind, a few nights of watching him with Vern and he knew that nobody had touched Beecher’s dick but his own hand since he got to Oz.  It wasn’t like Vern was going to get his prags off. 

            If Beecher hadn’t so clearly been afraid of what was going to happen he might have considered it, even if it went against the plan.  Even if it would ruin everything if Vern found out.  He hadn’t expected to feel so much... connection with the little prag.  He glanced sideways at him and his mouth quirked, “How you gonna hide that if Vern is back?”

            He hadn’t meant it to be a threat, or... well if he was honest he really hadn’t thought at all about what that would mean to Beecher.  The man shot him a fearful look, and he had the idea that it wouldn’t be a problem for long. 

            Just outside Unit B, waiting for the guard to open the gate he leaned close, “I really didn’t mean to scare you, I won’t say a thing, I promise.”

            Vern wasn’t there and Beecher retreated towards his cell, practically diving in to his blankets and burying himself in them.  Keller watched him for a moment and then went to his own cell, rummaging around until he found one of the skin mags and flipped it open, his hand sliding into his pants.

            He wasn’t really looking at the naked bodies in it, his eyes just over the top of it at Beecher, and he pictured him on his hands and knees on the mat, skin sliding against skin, and he was already close to cumming.  Another glance up and he realized that Toby was watching him, and even after they met eyes he didn’t look away.  He came staring at Toby, picturing that body under him while he slammed in to him with his cock, and made a point not to hide that thought on his face at all. 

            Beecher finally averted his eyes, though his face looked flushed and Keller noticed he shifted awkwardly on his bunk, and Keller smirked to himself as he slid his hand out, wiping it on the sheets and tucked his hands behind his head.  This was going better than he had hoped.

 


	5. Chapter 5

            Vern still wasn’t back by dinner and Keller frown as he watched Robson try to get Toby out of the bunk to go with them.  He was sure that he could do it, but wasn’t sure if that was something he wanted to point out.  Finally he decided it was, mostly because Beecher had already been skipping meals and he needed to eat.

            Robson was just leaving the cell when Keller brushed past him, and he knew the man was watching him.  He reached the cell and made a clicking sound with his tongue, tilting his head towards where the rest of them were going.  Beecher eyed him, some of that fire coming back because he was sure that he resented being called for like a dog, but he did get up and come to Keller’s side, following him.  Keller winked at Robson as he passed him.

            “What the fuck.”

            Keller shrugged, “Some people got it and some don’t Robson, what can I say?”

            Robson glanced around him at Toby, “You’re a cunt, you know that right?”

            “Mhm.”  He didn’t look particularly concerned about Robson though, not with Keller between them.  

            In the cafeteria Beecher started to head off like he normally did but Keller reached out and grabbed the band of his pants, yanking him back none too gently.  “Line.”

            “But-”

            “Line.”  Beecher’s mouth turned into a frown, grimacing, as he got in to line with Keller.  Robson was in front of him and while he was distracted getting food Keller leaned down, a hard whisper against Beecher’s neck, “Were you going to eat the food I brought you?  After the big show you put on last time?”

            Beecher glanced back at him and he watched the frown slide away to something like concern and he knew Beecher hadn’t thought about that.  “I don’t know.”

            He didn’t deny that it had been a show, and that was important information to have.  He was trying to get a handle on if Vern was playing Beecher, or if Beecher was playing Vern, and he just wasn’t sure.  While they walked the line the homeboys gave Beecher a lot of shit, and he had an idea why he didn’t like the line.  They clearly liked starting shit with the Aryans, and Beecher was an easy target. 

            One of them was teasing Beecher, withholding the food until he said something that Keller didn’t catch, and just as Keller was going to step in O’Reily did.  He came up behind the guy, and was holding a tray of food and held it out to Keller and motioned to Beecher.  Beecher caught on instantly and shoved the half full tray at the guy, Poet he thought, with enough force to have it clamber to the floor on the other side of the line, food spilling everywhere. 

            Keller was frozen to the spot, not sure what to do.  He had the tray of food in his hands and it looked like a fight was about to break out between Beecher and the other men, and where the fuck had that come from.  He heard Robson mutter, “Not again,” but before Beecher could go any further Keller bodily stepped between him and the line and shoved the tray from O’Reily at him.  “Go to the table.”

            Beecher took the tray but tried to get around him, snarling at the men, and Keller’s hand snapped out to grab him roughly by the arm to hold him still and shoved the finger of his other hand in his face.  His voice dropped and there was no argument with his tone, “Go. To. The. FUCKING. Table.”

            Beecher hesitated for a moment, but only a moment as he looked from them back to Keller.  He could see it in the way his shoulders drooped and he turned his body away, nodding his head.  He cut under the rope keeping the line separated and headed straight for the table and Keller watched until he reached it before he turned back around.  Everyone was looking and he held up his tray, “Can I get my food?”

            At the table Beecher was hunched over his tray, not looking at all like the prince of the Aryans that he normally acted and Keller nudged Robson as they headed in that direction.  “What the fuck was that all about?”

            “When Beech first got here Adebisi tried to prag him out before Schillinger got ahold of him.  He has some resentments.”

            “Did him and Adebisi ever...”

            “No but, did Vern tell you about when he got transferred to Gen Pop?”

            “Yea.”

            “Half the line up there now was part of that.”

            “Ah.”  Suddenly it made sense and he slid into the seat next to Beecher, leaving the one on his right where Vern usually sat empty.  Under the table he dropped his hand and patted his thigh, gratified when Beecher didn’t pull away.  “You okay?”        

“Yea.”  He picked at his food though, glancing at the line a few times, and Keller was sure that he was considering going back and starting shit.

            He leaned close, “You know if you went up there and started a fight they would kill you, right?”

            Beecher pulled his eyes away from them to Keller and his mouth was twisted, and he looked more serious than he had since Keller arrived.  Across from them Robson snorted, “Yea, I’m pretty sure he learned he can’t take them when he was in gen pop.”

            Keller waited for the snark to come out, the crazy Beecher but he only nodded and picked up his fork, eating his food.  And suddenly Keller had an insight about good ole Vern.  He didn’t keep Beecher out of the line because it caused him trouble like he had said, he did it because of how much it upset Beecher.  He made another notch in the column that was relatively sure that Beecher had Vern wrapped around his finger. 

            Beecher had barely taken a few bites of the food and started to push his tray forward.  Robson grinned and went to snag it but Keller grabbed it and pulled it in front of him, tapping it.  “You haven’t eaten all day.  Eat more of this.”

            “I don’t want to eat more of this.”

            “Eat.”

            Beecher tried to push the tray away again but Keller yanked it back again, putting more force in to it.  Part of him acknowledged that he appreciated that Robson didn’t try to touch it again, at least he had learned his place.

            Beecher poked at it and gave Keller a side glance, “Sir doesn’t make me eat if I don’t want to.”

            “And if he was here then he could tell you it was fine.  But I’m here and I’m saying you need to eat.”

            “Or what.”

            Robson and a few others of the Aryans had been glancing back and forth between the interaction with amusement and Keller took a few more bites of his food, calm and collected.  He knew how to handle prags.  Finally he set down his fork and before Beecher could react he grabbed him by the back of the head, fingers dug into his hair and shoved his face towards the table, stopping just short of smashing his face in to his food.  Beecher’s hand came up to the table to hold him off and he grabbed his wrist with his other hand, pulling his hand behind his back so it was only Keller holding his head up.  He leaned in close, “Eat your fucking food or wear it, your choice prag.”

            He let him go all at once, Beecher jerking backwards so hard that he tumbled off the bench to land on the floor in a pile of awkward limbs and rage.  His face twisted like he couldn’t figure out how to respond, was too angry, and Keller watched him glance around at everyone watching.  He finally pulled himself back to his feet and sat down, grabbing his fork and eating without looking up from the table or saying a word. 

            “That’s a good boy.”

            He liked the way Toby’s shoulders tensed at that, it made the predator in him perk up, Beecher may look like easy prey but he wasn’t.  And damned if Keller didn’t want to hunt him. 

            When Beecher didn’t react any more everyone around them lost interest, though the Aryans made a few jokes here and there that Toby took in stride.  Chris was watching carefully though, and when half of the food was gone he leaned towards him, keeping his voice soft.  “That’s good enough, if you don’t want more.”

            Immediately Toby pushed the tray away from him, like he hadn’t wanted the food at all, and Chris nodded.  It was important that he established his dominance with the Aryans, that if Vern wasn’t around they would submit to him.  Or at least leave him the fuck alone, since he had no plans of being with the Aryans any longer than he had to.

            He dropped his hand to Toby’s thigh again, less of a pat this time, more of a caress and his body automatically turned in to him, following the touch, even after Keller had put him in his place like that.  Where the fuck had Schillinger found this bitch?

            Beecher leaned towards him, his smile a mask of sweetness, and it was the only warning he got before something stabbed in to his leg.  He yelped and grabbed the shiv, yanking it out and trying to act like nothing had happened as the hacks looked at them, even as he pressed his palm to his leg, trying to stop the bleeding.  It wasn’t a bad injury, he knew that Beecher could have done much more damage, but it had fucking hurt.  The shiv was barely big enough to stick in him, clearly not meant to be a killing attack and he raised his eyes to Beecher, who was staring at him without flinching.

            He hissed a breath out between his teeth, not bothering to glance at the Aryans that were chuckling now, and focused all his attention on Beecher.  “You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that.”

            Beecher grinned, wild like that first day he had walked in and shrugged, “Shouldn’t have made me eat the food.”  There was no fear there, and Keller tried to stare him down but Beecher only leaned closer to him, waiting.

            On a whim he raised his hand up to Beecher’s face like was going to hit him, and though he didn’t pull away the crinkling around his eyes gave away that he wanted to.  Instead he grabbed his jaw to hold his face still and with his other hand grabbed the tray that Beecher had pushed away and with one powerful movement smashed it in to his face.

            Beecher sputtered and went over the bench again, landing on this back on the floor, food everywhere and a bloody nose, surprise written all over his face.  Keller pointed at him and snarled, “I told you that you would fucking wear it.”  Beecher’s eyes, wild and intense, practically smoldering as they met Keller’s was the last thing he saw as the hacks dragged him away to throw in the hole.  Totally worth it.

 

 

            He only spent three days in the hole, strutting in to Unit B in the middle of the day, eyes scanning for Vern.  There was a chance he had fucked shit up, that Vern was going to be so enraged he hurt Toby that bad shit would happen, but he had a feeling that it was going to be okay. 

            They were in their cell, Vern lying on his bed flipping through a magazine while Beecher sat on his own bunk, a notebook in his lap.  He looked up before Vern did, and the two black eyes were very noticeable and Keller couldn’t help himself as he threw him a wink.

            “Fuck you.”  The words were twisted with anger and it was what made Vern look up, and any worries that Chris had were gone at the grin on his face.

            “And he returns!”  Vern dropped down from the bunk and slapped Keller on the shoulder before motioning at Beecher.  “I hear that you two can’t play very nice.”

            Keller shrugged, leaning against the wall and tilted his head  “He shivved me, I punished him.  Seemed fair to me.”

Vern chuckled, glancing at Toby who seemed shocked that Vern didn’t seem to care.  I knew it would be good to bring you in, someone that has some balls.  Wanna play a game of pool?”

“You know it.”

They started to move away and Beecher came up to his knees on the bed, looking between them.  “Sir...”

Vern glanced at him, “What?”

“He...”  Beecher looked confused and oh, he must have been spoiled up until this point.  “He hit me.”

“Did you shove a shiv in his leg?”

“Yea, but-”

“You can’t do that and think nothing will happen.”

“Yea, but-”

Vern’s voice dropped, the amusement gone, “I don’t want to hear another word Toby, you shivved him, he hit you, that evens out.  You’re lucky you didn’t go to the hole.  End of the conversation.”  Vern was turned all the way away, heading towards the table when Beecher spoke again.

“But sir-”

Keller winced as Vern turned around and it must have finally gotten through to Beecher that he was going against an order because he whimpered and stepped backwards.  “I’m sorry.”

“Get the fucking bit.”

He didn’t complain or try to argue, just went to the chest and looked inside before he came out with the piece of leather.  Keller could tell just by his eyes that he wanted to complain, probably to say he hadn’t bitten because he had thought that was what this punishment was used for, or to argue his case but he was silent as he handed it to Vern.

He opened his mouth obediently and Vern wedged it in, slapping Beecher in the face hard after he bit down, snapping his head to the side before he got in his face.  “Go sit on your fucking bunk.  I don’t know what the fuck you are thinking talking back to me like that.”  Something seemed to cross his face and he glanced at Keller, “Hey, to make up for him shivving you, you want to fuck him?”

Beecher’s eyes nearly bugged out at that and he whipped his head around to look at Keller, a whine slipping through the gag as he retreated to the cell, curling up on his bunk while Vern stared him down.  He nodded, “That is fucking right, remember that you have no rights here ToBias, maybe you need some retraining.  You can keep that fucking thing in till lights out.”

            When Vern headed towards the table Keller followed, but he couldn’t help but glance back at Beecher.  He had seen him with that bit for 2 hours and be in pain, lights out was at least 8 hours away and something like guilt settled in his stomach.  He tried to catch his eyes but the man was staring down single mindedly, and he pushed away the feeling and joined the Aryans laughing and joking.

            At dinner Beecher didn’t budge from his bunk, and Keller was right in assuming that when Vern was punishing him he didn’t get to eat.  It only made him feel worse and he thought over what had happened.  He couldn’t really think of any other way it could have gone, he couldn’t let a prag talk to him like that, you didn’t survive in prison like that.  He wanted to talk to Beecher, but couldn’t see how he could manage that.  If he skipped dinner it would be suspicious and he just resigned himself to trying the next day. 

            Once they were locked in their cells he rolled on to his stomach and watched Toby across the hall, Vern was ignoring him completely but even as far away as Keller was he could hear the choked sobs as Beecher tried to keep the gag in his mouth, but was hurting.

            Schillinger gave in before lights out, and he watched him move down to the bottom bunk and sit there, holding Beecher’s jaw in both hands, rubbing at it after the bit was out and he Beecher didn’t seem to be able to stop the crying.  Eventually he calmed and Keller didn’t look away as Schillinger pressed Toby on to his hands and knees and fucked him, holding him with a hand under his jaw that looked like it hurt.  Once Vern came he moved up to his bunk and Beecher curled up, still crying.  There was no begging tonight, no hard Beecher trying to cum, and now he looked like a real prag. 

            It looked like Vern was asleep quickly, an orgasm would do that, but Beecher didn’t seem to be able to fall asleep.  He finally rolled over on to his stomach and that was when their eyes met.  It was dark but they could just see each other and after long moments Keller mouthed ‘im sorry’ at him.  He shouldn’t apologize to a prag, but he had pushed him, and it was his fault and it was worth it as he watched Toby rub at his eyes and nod, mouthing back ‘it’s okay’.

            When Beecher managed a mangled smile, trying, he gave him one back and then rolled on his back to try to get some sleep.  He’d see if he could get him to go to the gym the next day, maybe work on the boxing again, but no matter what they did he was going to make a move on him that he couldn’t come back from.

            Toby should be his prag, they were connected in a way that he wasn’t with Vern, and it was time to put his plan in to action.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“How is your jaw?”

            “Sore.”  Beecher for once wasn’t in his cell, he was hovering around the pool table and had been watching Robson and Mack, though when Keller headed over he moved next to him, glancing at him for a few seconds here and there.

            “Want to go to the gym?”

            Beecher was still looking at the table but he was already nodding his head and he finally turned to look fully at Chris.  “I’m sorry about the shiv.  I was just...”

            Keller glanced to see if anyone was listening but they seemed preoccupied and he raised an eyebrow, “Embarrassed?”

            A small smile pulled at Beecher’s mouth and he shook his head, “No, that I can get over.  I was ... scared?”

            Nodding Keller nudged him to start heading towards the gym.  “Because I threatened you?  I mean, that makes sense Tobe.”

            “No.”  Toby was biting his lip and seemed to be struggling.

            “Toby?”

            “That you could talk to me like that, do that, and I still wanted you to touch me.”  The words came out in a rush and Beecher kept going before Keller could say anything, “I don’t even feel like that with Vern, when he punishes me I hate him.”  Instantly shock registered on Beecher’s face and he skidded to a stop, grabbing Keller’s sleeve, “I can’t believe I said that.  Don’t tell him, please.”

            “I won’t tell him Toby.”  He pulled him so they kept moving and asked, “You didn’t hate me?”

            Toby shook his head again, lifting his hand up to chew at the corner of his thumb, obviously a nervous habit and looked sideways at Chris, meeting his eyes.  “No.”

Keller thought about his words, “Toby, am I crazy or when I responded by hitting you with that tray did you look excited?”

Beecher didn’t answer anything, face flushing red and Keller gave him an easy grin and put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close against his side, and didn’t make him say anything more.  He had already heard what he needed to.

           

            Ryan and Keller watched Cyril box Toby, and it really looked like the few lessons had done absolutely zilch to improve his boxing.  As far as Keller could tell Cyril was still just playing with him, shoving a little here, a little there.  He hadn’t wanted to hit Toby in the face since he still had the black eyes, so it was more like watching a pushing match.

            “I figured after what happened the other day in the cafeteria I wouldn’t see you together.”

            Keller shrugged one shoulder, eyes on every move Beecher made.  “We worked it out.”

            “You almost broke his nose.”

            “And he stabbed me.”  He forced his attention away from Toby to look at Ryan, “Trust me.  Him and I are good.”  He added an obvious leer to it, making it clear what he meant.

            “I don’t understand that at all.”  It must have looked like Keller was going to explain but Ryan put up one hand, “I don’t even want to understand it.  I’ll just trust you.”

            “Good.”  
            Ryan eased a little to the side, eyeing him, “Unless I hear from Toby that you’re doing something to him that he doesn’t want.  Then you might find yourself the victim of an accident.”

            “Believe me, he’s going to want everything I do to him.”

            “Ug, Keller.  Okay, just keep it to yourself man.”

            They laughed and he watched Beecher glance over at them curiously, though whatever was on their faces made him narrow his eyes suspiciously.  Which left him open to the bop in the face from Cyril, and started Keller and Ryan both laughing again. 

            Keller let it go on for a little longer before he intervened.  “Alright, let me give it a shot.”  

            Cyril didn’t complain, going to find Ryan when Keller took over, putting up a boxing stance against Beecher.  Toby shied away though, dropping his hands.  “I’m done.”

            “Come on, box me.”  Toby still didn’t raise his hands though, shaking his head and Chris moved in to his space.  “What’s wrong?”

            “I don’t want to hit you.”

            “Don’t worry, I’m not sure you could even if you wanted to.”

            There was a small flare up there of a temper, but Beecher quickly shoved it down, dropping his eyes.  Keller looked around at who else was in the gym, and didn’t see anyone that would cause Beecher to act like this.  He finally shrugged and struck out, hitting Beecher square in the face with the boxing glove.  He hadn’t put any weight behind it, sure that it didn’t even hurt, but it was all it took to set Beecher off.

            The man flew at him, forgetting all the stances that he had taught him, all the blocks, just a whirlwind of flying fists. 

            It was pure luck that while Keller was laughing and dodging one caught him square in the jaw and he was dazed for a second before he focused again on Beecher and launched at him, grabbing him around the waist and slamming him to the ground when the man threw his hands up victoriously.

            Beecher let out a woosh of air, following by a strangled laugh, and tried to kick his feet to get Keller off of him.  Keller grabbed one of them though and flipped him over on his stomach, grabbing one arm and pulling it behind his back, pressing Beecher’s face down into the mat and holding him still till he gasped out that he gave. 

            Only then did he let him back up and he heard Cyril complaining that it wasn’t how you were supposed to box, that those weren’t the rules, but Ryan calmed him by telling him that, apparently, Chris and Toby were doing something other than boxing. 

            He was going to try to convince Beecher to do a little wrestling when suddenly Ryan tapped him on the shoulder and tilted his head towards the way they had come, winking at him.  Beecher was still giggling and looked like he wanted to keep boxing, raising up his hands, but Keller grabbed one of the gloves.  “Come on, we got somewhere to be.”

            Confused Beecher looked at him, and then glanced at Ryan, and Keller just caught the mick sending Beecher a reassuring look.  “Sure, Keller.”

            He pulled off the gloves and started to head back towards unit B but Keller caught his wrist and tugged him in the other direction.  They had barely made it around the corner when Keller was suddenly backing Beecher up, glancing both ways down the hallway and then slipped inside a closet.

            “Keller, what do you think-”

            He grabbed Beecher by the shirt and slammed him against the door and when he smashed his mouth down on him the man didn’t seem surprised.  No, he pressed up against Keller and moaned into his mouth, hands scrambling to hold on to him. 

            It was even better than Keller had imagined, Beecher opened his mouth to the onslaught, sucking on Keller’s tongue, letting him dominate the kiss.  When he started to pull back suddenly Beecher bit him, just hard enough to draw blood.

            He jerked away, and those blue eyes were sparkling as he tilted his chin up defiantly.  Keller grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back hard and pressed his mouth against his again, kissing him until the man was pressing against him, practically humping against his leg. 

            “Oh, fuck Toby.” 

            He pulled off his mouth and pressed his teeth against Beecher’s skin and felt Toby’s entire body tense up, and not in a good way.  He changed what he was doing to licking up the side of his neck, and he had almost forgotten himself.  Vern couldn’t know yet, and a bite on the neck would probably give it away.

            Beecher started to slip down to his knees but Chris grabbed him and held him up against the door.  He tried to ask why, tried to say anything, but Chris caught his mouth again and this time he let him kiss back, let Beecher shyly try to take control.  While they kissed he reached one hand down to palm across the front of Beecher’s pants, cupping the hard on he found there, and he had to catch him as his knees buckled.

            “Woah.”  He pulled back to look at Beecher, at his flushed face, and he liked what he saw.  Once he was sure Toby wasn’t going to fall over he wrapped fingers in his hair and held his head while he licked at his neck, mouthing it just short of leaving a mark, and slipped his other hand down Toby’s pants.

            He whined, and shifted his weight, pulling away.  He tried to reach for Keller’s pants but he shook his head.  “Hands against the wall.”  Immediately they hit the wall, but there was more uneasy movement and without taking his hand out of his pants he pressed his mouth against his neck, “What’s wrong?”

            Beecher shook his head, and huffed out, “I’ll blow you.”

            Keller grinned and stroked him as much as he could in the confines of his pants, swiping his thumb over the head of Beecher’s cock, making his hips tilt up.  “No.”

            It took Beecher a few seconds to come up with a response, his head falling on to Chris’ shoulder, but he managed eventually.  “You want to fuck me?”

            Keller’s own dick was hard, straining against his pants, and those words were enough to make his hips grind up on their own, pressing hard into Toby.  “Yes.”  He reached for Toby’s pants, unbuckling them and yanking them down to Toby’s thighs, not giving him time to protest and when Toby tried to turn, and oh did Keller appreciate how accommodating he was, he held him still with one hand to the shoulder.  “Not today though.”

            “Do you want-”

            “Just relax, let me take control Tobe.”  Toby nodded, letting his head fall back to Keller’s shoulder.

            It was good to be right.  Every touch, every stroke had Beecher mewling and straining his body, twisting in his grasp.  He was already close, just from this, and he nuzzled against the side of his face that he could reach.  He held on to the back of Beecher’s neck and sped up his strokes, twisting his hand, and his only warning was a choked off gasp and Toby was cumming.  He kissed him just to muffle sounds he was making, hand sliding over him until it was too much, his body trying to pull away.  Only then did he help Beecher get himself tucked back in his pants, pulling and buckling them while Toby seemed dazed, loopy, just clinging to Keller.

            It was kind of cute and he pressed Beecher against the wall to support him as he buried his face against his neck.  Finally he asked, “No one has made you cum since you got to Oz, huh?”

            The shake of his head was barely there, and Keller felt it more than saw it and he reached up to pet his hair and hated to do it but they had to get moving.  “Come on, you okay to walk?  We need to get back, we didn’t have that long.”

            Beecher started to nod but all at once the haze cleared and he looked down between them and then up at Chris, looking suddenly panicked.  “You, here let me.”  Beecher got his hands over the top of Chris’ pants, barely brushing against the hard on he had, before Keller grabbed his wrist and pressed them back against the wall.  “This wasn’t about me Tobe, okay?”  He pressed one more kiss to his lips, almost chaste, and then stepped back to look him over, making sure that he looked presentable.  With a nod he reached out to pull him off the wall and opened the door, glancing around to make sure no one would see them and then pulled Toby out.

            They were heading back to Unit B and Beecher grabbed his sleeve, “Chris?”

            “What baby?”  He bit his own lip at that, he couldn’t be calling him pet names like that, as much as he wanted to.

            The word made Beecher glance away shyly and he was close to him when he whispered, “Why did you do that?”

            He glanced at him and smiled, reaching out to bump against his chin affectionately, “To make you feel good Tobe.”

            It seemed like the concept was just too much to wrap his mind around as Beecher hesitantly nodded, face still confused, but they were getting closer to Unit B.  “If Schillinger asks where we were Lopressi held us up.  If Vern asks him he’ll back that up.  Got it?”

            Beecher nodded, relief on his face, and reached out to brush his hand against Chris’.  Then they were back in the unit though and Keller made sure there was space between them, each of them heading to their respective cells.  Keller ignored his hard on, he thought about jerking himself off but he wanted it set in Beecher’s head that this had been about him and no one else, and he didn’t want to tarnish that now. 

            It was a step in the right direction.  He needed to undermine Schillinger and nothing did that like turning a man’s prag on him.  He glanced at Beecher, and wasn’t surprised to find him watching him, and threw him a wink.  And when he turned this prag on his owner, it was going to be a hell of a show. 

 

            They headed to dinner and Schillinger had been dismissive with Beecher, shoving him off when he tried to grab his belt and Beecher had only whined for a moment before giving him space, coming around the other side of Keller, pressing close to him as they walked.  Vern eyed it, glancing up to Keller’s face, and seemed content with the look of mild annoyance he saw there. 

            Beecher was talking to him, trying to explain something about boxing that he had read in a book and when they hit the cafeteria he hesitated, glancing towards the table and back towards the line.  Keller knew instantly what the dilemma was, and he quickly stepped away from Beecher and sidled up with Robson, making a comment about one of the female hacks.  Without Chris there Beecher finally moved, heading through the room towards their table.  Keller rolled his eyes, Vern wasn’t going to like it if Toby was deferring to him for what he should do, and maybe he had moved a little too fast with him. 

            When they reached the table Vern sat next to Beecher and Keller sat on the other side of Vern, and didn’t miss as Beecher’s eyebrows creased, unhappy with the arrangement.  It did mean that Robson slid into the seat next to Beecher, snatching the orange off his tray as soon as he was sitting.

            Beecher didn’t say anything, and Vern was watching with a keener eye now.  The big man turned towards Toby, “Beecher, you feeling okay?”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Mack motioned at him, “He’s mopey because you’ve been ignoring him Schillinger.  Your prag feels neglected.”

            A few chuckles broke out around the table and Vern grinned at them before he looked back to Toby.  “Is that true Toby?”  Vern reached up to cup his face and despite the rough treatment the last day Beecher pushed into his hand like a cat, rubbing against it and whimpering as he tried to shove closer to Vern.  “Are you lonely?”

            “Sir.”  Beecher looked past him to Keller but averted his eyes quickly, “Please.  I’m sorry.”

            For a moment Keller was... maybe not afraid but nervous.  He was sure that Beecher was about to blow them in, to tell Vern what they had done, and he couldn’t even give him a glare because Toby’s eyes were closed as he pressed against Vern. 

            “What are we sorry about, bitch?”

            “I’ve been bad.  I haven’t listened.”  Keller’s heart was racing and he lowered his hand to the shiv shoved in the band of his pants, ready if he needed it.  Beecher was still talking though, “I’ve been moody.  I’m sorry sir.”  Keller’s hand relaxed even as Vern smirked at Toby, something cold twisting across his face as he moved his hand and pressed his thumb in Toby’s mouth like he had that first day, letting him suck on it.  When he pulled back Beecher sighed, “I love you, sir.”

            “I know you do.”  Vern patted the side of Beecher’s cheek and the indifference he had shown earlier, shown the last few days, disappeared.  “Just that time of the month, yea?”

            Vern’s hand dropped to Beecher’s leg, squeezing it, and Beecher went back to eating.  Seemingly with more appetite than he had the last few meals.  Keller watched it and he wasn’t sure if the moodiness was an act, if this was an act, if the way he was with Keller was an act.  Beecher was a complicated boy, and Keller liked that very much.  He waited to catch his eyes, to give him a wink, anything but Beecher was dead set on staring at Vern and he didn’t waver at all.

            On the way back from dinner while Vern was distracted Keller moved up close to Beecher, letting the hand that was casually hanging at his side brush against Beecher but the man pulled away and shot him a nervous look, shaking his head. 

            The casualness was slipping away because this was not going as planned.  Beecher should be head over heels for him, or at least on the way.  He shouldn’t be saying no at all.  He glanced at Vern to make sure he wouldn’t hear and kept his voice low, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

            Beecher twitched a little, nervously tugging at the bottom of his shirt and answered without looking.  “I shouldn’t... I was bad.  I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

            “Beech-”

            “I belong to Vern.  I’m sorry.”  With that he scurried forward, grabbing to Vern’s belt, tossing Keller a sad puppy dog look, and he had no idea what the fuck had just happened.

            It was impossible to get close to Beecher at all before count, he was all over Vern, moony looks and extra touching, physically getting in the man’s way while he was trying to play pool to get more affection.  Vern was lapping it up, laughing, and shoving Beecher away, touching him when it only made the man move closer to him. 

            At lights out Keller watched them fuck, because what else was there to do.  From this angle he could see Beecher’s face, could see the concentration and eventually the pleasure.  He could see Toby twisting, could hear whispered words, and it was clear Toby was trying to get a position that felt better, that felt good.

            When Vern came he pulled back, starting to get off the bunk like Keller had seen him do every night, but something was different.  Beecher kneeled up and Keller slipped his hand under the blanket, down his shorts to stroke himself, because that tight body with his hard cock was quite a sight.  Toby grabbed Vern’s arm before he was off the bed and half turned to face him, and though Keller couldn’t make out the whimpered words, he had a fairly good idea what the man was asking Vern.

            Vern hesitated before giving Toby a dirty look and shoving his hand off.  Beecher tried to grab him again, and Vern responded with a slap across the face as he finally made it off the bunk to grab his clothes.

            Keller shook his head, poor dumb prag.  Schillinger might treat him sweet, might coddle him as a favored sex toy, but he wasn’t going to convince the Nazi fucker to touch him like that, to get him off.

            For several moments Beecher stayed kneeling like that before glancing around and realizing that people could see him and he sunk down to the bed.  More words and the ‘no’ from Vern made it across the hallway and Toby looked absolutely miserable. 

            Chris watched Toby’s hand hover over his cock, still hard and ready, before he glanced at the bottom of the bunk and dropped his hand to the side, grabbing the blankets and yanking them up to his chin as he rolled on to his side with a frustrated sound.

            Keller came with that sound in his ears, and watched Beecher squirm and shift and generally exude discomfort.  Oh Toby, he never would deny him an orgasm like that, well, unless that was the game they were playing.  It helped prove to him that Vern felt different about Beecher though, because there had been a hesitation when Toby asked Vern to touch him, like the man had almost considered doing it.  The over reaction, telling Beecher he wasn’t even allowed to make himself cum was just an effort to push that away.  Nazis weren’t gay, never mind that most of the Aryans fucked other men up the ass on a regular basis, they weren’t gay and giving your prag pleasure was just a little too close to that line.

            Not for Chris though, he had doubted after Beecher’s act at dinner, but that was only because he had thought that he was going to be able to convince Vern to touch him like Keller had.  A sexually frustrated prag made for an easy target, he just had to show him that.

 


	7. Chapter 7

            They got up, they showered, they got dressed, they headed to work.  Just like every day.  Only after Vern left his cell and Keller fell in to step next to him suddenly Toby was on Vern’s other side.  Dressed and ready to go.

            Vern glanced at him, “What are you doing?”

            Beecher shrugged and made a half motion towards the way they were going, “Going to work, sir.”

            It brought Vern to a dead stop as he looked at him, “What?”

            Toby chewed his lip, glancing around to the other Aryans, not trying to hide his nervousness.  “If that is okay, sir.  Please?”

            “You want to go to work.”  Vern stared at him long enough that the hacks yelled at them to get moving, so Vern grabbed Beecher’s arm and moved, getting them all to go. 

            Toby nodded, “I’m bored.  I want to work.  Please, sir.”

            “Two years and you’ve never complained about sitting on your ass all day.  Suddenly you want to work?”  Toby nodded and Vern dropped his arm, and really he _should_ be suspicious but Vern was only shaking his head in wonder, “Jesus Christ, miracles do happen.  Did I finally get through your head the benefit of a hard day’s work?”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Vern slapped Toby on the back, making him stumble, before he went back to shooting the shit with his boys.  Keller managed to catch Toby’s eyes behind Vern’s back and he looked unhappy, sending him that sad look, big eyes and pleading, but Keller didn’t know what the fuck he wanted. 

            In the mail room Schillinger explained the job to Beecher slowly like he was talking to a moron and Beecher nodded, looking around idly, like he wasn’t really paying attention.  Twice Vern corrected him with a slap upside the head, asking Beecher to repeat back to him what he had said, and Beecher got it right both times.  He wasn’t dumb, he had been a lawyer on the outside, but Vern didn’t seem to think about that.

            When Vern finished his spiel Beecher nodded and then touched the cart, “Can I deliver the mail, please?”

            “Keller delivers the mail.”

            “Oh.”  He fingered a few of the letters, “I wanted to see around the prison.  I haven’t seen much since we were in Em City.”

            “You will stay here and help sort mail.” 

            “Yes, sir, anything I can do I’m happy with.”  He was looking down but he tilted his head up, smiling at Vern, “Thank you, sir.”  Keller was sure if Toby had moped when he said it he would have gotten another hit upside the head, but he said it chipper, waiting for Vern to tell him where to go. 

            Mack glanced up, and already looked annoyed.  “Just let him fucking go Vern, we have a shit ton to get through today and you saw how he was yesterday, he was constantly under foot.”

Schillinger rolled his eyes, but the memory of Beecher in between him and the pool table, right at his elbow every time he moved came forward pretty quickly. “Fine, go deliver mail with Keller.  It’s a busy day anyways and you’ll be in the way.  Tomorrow you sort though.”

“Thank you, sir.”

They finished getting the mail together and then Toby and Chris headed out with the cart and as soon as they were out of hearing distance Keller nonchalantly spoke up, “I see what you’re doing, if you think you can use me Toby, you are sadly mistaken.”  He glanced up at him, and made sure his face held the threat, none of the softness for the other man that he was feeling, “You won’t like what happens if you’re playing me.”

“I’m not.”  He looked nervous, and shy, but the reaction was so minor that he was sure the other wasn’t trying to actually play him.  “I just wanted to do something different.”

“And this has nothing to do with you trying to get Vern to jerk you off last night and him wanting nothing to do with you?”

“You saw that?”  Beecher’s face turned red and he concentrated on the cart he was pushing.  “I just thought he might...”

“Why?”

Beecher chewed on his lip for a moment before he looked up and met Chris’ eyes.  “Because you’re tough, you’ve got... ya know.  And you did.  Why couldn’t he too?”

“Ah.”  He patted him on the shoulder, “Vern’s never gonna be that for ya Toby, you might as well get that through your head now.”

“I get it.”  They handed out mail quickly, they worked well as a team.

They worked in silence for a while and were almost to Em City when Toby spoke up, “I want...”  He licked his lips and glanced up at Keller, “I’m scared though.  Things aren’t bad, Vern is mostly nice.  I’ve seen other prags worse off.”

“Is this why you told me no more?”  He gave him a tight nod, and something in Keller eased as he crowded Beecher and put his hand over his on the cart.  “Not because you don’t want me?”

“I want you to fuck me.” 

Keller tightened his hand over Beecher’s at the words and leaned in close, “Okay.  Toby, I can take good care of you, but you have to trust me.  And if you’re playing me, I’ll kill you.”

Maybe it was from being in Oz so long but the threat of death only made Beecher shrug and nod, “Just tell me what to do.”

He was nodding at that and then they were in Em City and he watched Beecher’s face light up, and suddenly realized that this little mail delivery trip hadn’t even been about him.  It may have been a benefit, but he could clearly see that there were people he wanted to see here.  While Keller handed out the mail he didn’t even pretend to help, darting around and talking to a few people, an easy smile on his face, honest excitement.

Ryan made his way to Keller while Beecher socialized and raised an eyebrow.  “I haven’t seen him on work detail since he worked for Sister Pete.”

That was news to him, “He wasn’t always in the mail room?”

“Nah, he worked as a secretary for the sister.  Nice easy computer work.  Fit him well.  He really liked it, Schillinger made him leave it when the Sister kept asking too many questions.”

Keller chuckled as he finished handing out the mail and winked at O’Reily, “Once he is mine maybe he can get that job back.”  He glanced around till he found Beecher talking to some old guy and put his thumb and forefinger in his mouth before letting out a sharp whistle.

It made the hacks jump, which was always entertaining, but it served its purpose.  Beecher’s head shot up and he headed towards him instantly, and more than a few people saw what Toby didn’t even care about.  Someone other than Vern had his prag at heel, and that was saying a lot.  Beecher’s reputation for being crazy, that only gave Keller more cred for having control of him. 

Beecher stopped in front of him and smiled at him, though it was tight around the corners, and Keller wondered if he was going to get shivved again. 

He kept an eye on him as they headed out of Em City and just as he expected as soon as they were alone Beecher whirled on him, but there was no shiv involved, just a glare.  “I’m not a fucking dog.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that in there?”

He rolled his shoulders, “You know I can’t.  Not in front of others.”

That was true but Keller couldn’t help but smirk, “I’ve seen you tell off Robson.  I think you might like coming when I call you.”   The glare didn’t waver and Keller threw his hands up, twisting his face into an over the top fearful look, “Hey now, don’t shiv me.  Again.”  Actually he tilted his head, “For a third fucking time.  Jesus, Toby.”  The mocking slid away and he gave him a serious look, “Quit sticking me a shiv.”

The glare faltered and disappeared as Beecher laughed.  He held his hands out for Chris to see, “I didn’t go for a shiv.”

“I know.”  He pushed a little bit, “Good boy.”  Beecher rolled his eyes at him but didn’t tell him not to say it, didn’t deny that it made him grin and they were coming up to the Sister’s office. 

Beecher’s attention was instantly taken away and he glanced at Keller, looked like he was trying to think of how to word what he wanted to ask but Keller beat him to it.  He pulled out the mail and handed it to him, “Go on, I’ll wait out here.”

“Thank you.”

Keller nodded and leaned against the wall as Toby slipped into the office and shut the door behind him.  Through the slit in the blinds he could see how happy Beecher was, face open and vulnerable, and when he shifted he could see that the sister looked just as happy to see him.  There was a spark of jealousy at that but he pushed it down, that was ridiculous. 

It was longer than he probably should have stayed there, at least 15 minutes before Beecher made his way out, eyes down and apologizing and Chris just shrugged it off.  “Not like we have anywhere we need to be Beech.”  They started walking and there was something about Toby that had relaxed talking to the women. 

“You used to work in her office?”

“Yea.”  His voice was small, wistful. 

“Would you want to go back there?”

“Yea.”  He glanced back once before shaking his head,  “Sir won’t let me.  He thinks she is a bad influence on me.”

“What if it wasn’t Vern’s decision?”

Beecher snorted, “Is sure isn’t mine.”

“What if it was mine?”

The cart made a squeaky screeching sound as Toby abruptly stopped, looking at him.  “What?”

“Just asking, no reason.”  He couldn’t give away the plan, not yet.  Beecher was unstable, unreliable, and he didn’t have him tied down enough yet to trust him.

“I’d want to.”  Beecher scuffed his foot, “Is that something that might happen Keller?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

They returned to the mail room without incident, Vern giving Beecher a hard time about working, but everyone seemed relatively calm.

            The next week or two everything moved normally.  Keller knew that Beecher was desperate to get alone time with him, he could catch his eyes on him all the time, and he wasn’t intentionally putting it off.  Just things weren’t quite working out as smoothly as he had hoped they would be. 

            They did make it to the gym a few times though, and Beecher tried to convince him to wrestle, body so close to him he could feel the heat, but he had directed him to lifting weights or boxing, and that he was actually starting to improve on. 

            Keller laid in his bunk, eyes across the way, waiting for Schillinger to give his nightly attention to Beecher, and this had become a habit too.  As soon as Beecher was on his stomach, as soon as he was getting fucked his eyes found Chris.  Chris held them, stroking his own cock.  Beecher would glance down, lust flashing across his face as he watched him, and after Vern was finished and back on his bunk, after Beecher was giving permission to come he’d wrap his hand around himself and stroke with his eyes locked with Keller’s. 

            Keller loved watching the heat on the other’s face, the way his hand would frantically move, but what pushed him over the edge was the desperation on Beecher’s face as he would wait for a nod from Keller that told him he could cum.  That control over the other man was intoxicating and when Beecher would come over his hand, biting down on his arm to keep quiet Keller would cum too, resisting the urge to close his eyes so he could keep them on Beecher.

            Plan or not, he had feelings for Toby.  He couldn’t deny it.  It wasn’t just the plan, it wasn’t just fucking, and every day the rage built up more when Vern touched him.  It was soothed by the knowledge that that Nazi fucker wouldn’t be doing it forever, but only just.

 


	8. Chapter 8

           

            “How is the boxing training going?”  Keller glanced over from his tray of food but Vern was talking to Beecher, who shifted uncomfortably.

            “Okay, sir.”

            “We’ll go to the gym this afternoon, and give it a go.  I’d like to see how you’re doing.” 

            Beecher looked confused and glanced at Keller before he nodded, “You want to watch me fight Cyril, sir?”

            “No, you’re going to box me.”

            “Sir.”  Schillinger reached out to pat his cheek, and his voice was cold.

            “Remember that when you meet with you father today, I’d hate for you to do something that makes me mad before that, right?”

            Keller thought it was ridiculous for Vern to threaten Toby like that, it wasn’t like it was difficult to get him to submit.  It was overkill, and just Vern being a bully, but it worked as Toby paled and nodded frantically. 

            Beecher was already nervous about meeting with his father, and Keller had racked his brain about how he was supposed to help him with that.  Finally he had called up one of his ex-wives and asked her to do him a favor and come visit.  She had agreed, and at least he could be in the room when Toby met his father. 

            It had pleased Vern too.  He poked at his food, “Don’t worry Vern, I’ll be there to hear what he has to say too, just to make sure he behaves.”

            “Thanks Keller.” 

            Beecher turned his head towards him and smiled, mouthing ‘thanks Keller’ and Chris had to work hard not to laugh.  If it would cheer Beecher up it was worth it, he knew that he was a mess about what his father was going to say.  Things that would be out of his control.

His ex-wife got there before Beecher’s dad and he met her in the room, hugging her and kissing her automatically, and he just barely caught Beecher giving them a sour look.  That was a hell of a jealous look for someone that was fucked by another man every night.  Of course, yea, he didn’t really have a choice. 

Without having ever seen Beecher’s dad he knew the man instantly, and he understood a little more about Toby.  His dad looked uptight, an air about him that said that everyone should do what he says, that everyone did do what he said and it was no surprise that Beecher took to being submissive so well.

“Why am I here Chris?”

His eyes went back to Bonnie and he grinned, “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”   Only for a second though as he looked back to Beecher meeting his father, all hunched shoulders and tucked chin.

She rolled her eyes and followed his gaze.  “Ah.  Friend or foe?”

“Friend.” 

She didn’t seem all that put out about being there to help him with some plot, they had parted on relatively good terms, and the couple hundred thousand he had sent her after a bank robbery had gone a long way too.  He looked at her, they had to at least pretend like they were visiting.  “So what’s new?”

He half listened to Bonnie talking while he paid attention to Beecher.  He was talking low, anxiously pulling at his sleeves, and from his vantage point he could see the concern on his father’s face.  He had to knock him out of it, he was doing exactly what he wasn’t supposed to and finally he held up a hand to stop Bonnie for a second and turned in his seat.

“Beecher, this is my ex Bonnie.”

He startled as he looked up, eyes going to Bonnie and back to Keller and there was that angry twist of his lips.  “Hi.”

Bonnie grinned, and gave him a wave, “Hey Beecher.  Nice to meet you.”

The friendly words took him off guard, it was obvious, and he looked back to Chris who winked at him.  His father was looking at him so he called out, “Hey Mr. Beecher, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Who is that man Tobias?”

Chris went back to talking to Bonnie, he’d done what he needed to, he had gotten Beecher’s attention on him and that was enough to get him back on track.  He saw his shoulders straighten and when he faced his father he wasn’t frowning anymore.  “A friend.”

“Ah.”  It sure looked like he wasn’t pleased that Beecher was making friends in the prison but Keller looked normal enough.  No Nazi tattoos, seemed to have some kind of manners.  “What about that other man, are you still ... friends with him.”

“No, dad.”

“Oh good.  I was worried about you, after the last time I was here and talked to the warden you haven’t wanted to visit at all.”

“I know dad, I just... you know.  Needed to get my head straight.”

“Good, good.”

With his back to Beecher Keller couldn’t help but smirk at that, at the absurdity of Beecher’s father asking him if he was still a prag, if he even understood that was what he was asking.  The rest of the conversation shifted to him asking about a private eye, explaining the situation, and that part he only half listened to. 

At the end of visiting time he kissed Bonnie again, dipping her down and really getting in to it, honestly just to antagonize Beecher a little bit.  He watched Beecher hug his father without taking his eyes off him, and they headed out at the same time.

And maybe he had misjudged Toby because they made it around a corner, barely out of the view of anyone and he was suddenly shoved against the wall and Beecher’s mouth was on him, desperately kissing like he was trying to erase the touch of the woman.

They shouldn’t be doing this, it wasn’t planned so anyone could see them, but Beecher’s fingers were digging into his chest, clawing at him as if he could climb inside him, mouth demanding against his own.

Beecher was pressing against his hip and he could feel him hard and he started to spin them so he could press him against the wall and continue the kiss but there were footsteps coming so instead he grabbed his shirt and shoved him back ignoring the whine as Beecher struggled closer again.

“Hey, someone’s coming.” 

Beecher nodded but he didn’t move and Chris gave him a little shove, making him stumbling a few feet back, just as a few of the Muslims came around the corner.  They looked between them and looked disgusted, but Chris wasn’t worried.  Even if they had caught them kissing the chances that they would have gotten word to anyone, spoken of it at all was pretty slim.  Keller licked his lips seductively and nodded at the Muslim still glaring at them, “You looking to get some?”

The Muslim stepped forward like he was going to start a fight but their leader grabbed his arm and shook his head, pulling them along until it was just him and Beecher again. 

It had given the smaller man a chance to catch his breath and pull himself together, but hadn’t calmed the hard on he had, pressing against his pants as his hands twitched like he wanted to grab at Keller again.

“Well, someone’s horny.”

Beecher huffed out a breath, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, but only because we’re lucky we didn’t get caught.  But Toby, you’re welcome to grind against me any time you want.”

“You aren’t mad?”

He bit his lip and grinned at Beecher and reached down to grab his dick, hard and pressing against his pants, Beecher’s eyes automatically following the move.  “Does it look like I’m mad?”

“It looks like you need a blow job.”

Keller’s jaw worked and Beecher’s shy grin said he knew the effect he had.  He glanced around and there was no one, and they needed to head to lunch but he had never been good at this self-control and motioned at Beecher, “Come here.”

He did immediately and Keller wrapped a hand in his hair and pushed down, and Beecher slid down to his knees, eyes level with Chris’ crotch.  He wanted to do it, wanted to pull himself out and shove himself down Beecher’s throat, he was sure he would come quick before anyone would see them, but no, he pulled himself together.  One thing he did notice though was Beecher’s hard on wasn’t waning on the ground in front of him, if anything as he knelt there and looked up at Keller he could see his dick twitch in his pants. 

“Ah, Fuck.”  He used the grip on his hair to pull Beecher to his feet and spin him against the wall, shoving a hand down Toby’s pants and grabbing his dick.  The sudden change in what was happening caused Beecher to freeze up, but only for a second before he was scrambling at Keller’s arm, trying to stop him.

“Keller, please-”  One of his legs was kicking, trying to get traction, and Beecher was frantically looking around, “I’m gonna cum, stop, please.”

“You’re supposed to.” 

“We need to get to the cafeteria, I can’t c-cum in my pants.”  He stuttered and hissed out the words, his hips pressing into Keller’s touch, and he didn’t know why it was suddenly so important that he make him cum like this.  Or he kind of did, he wanted to go to the cafeteria and stand in line and have Beecher sit next to Vern with cum in his pants, with the knowledge of what Keller could do to him impossible to ignore.

Toby buried his face against Chris’ shoulder when he came, whimpering out his release and Keller barely managed to get his hand out of Toby’s pants and take a step back before another inmate came around the corner, barely giving them a glance. 

He watched them until they were gone and turned back to Beecher who was still against the wall, looking a little worse for wear.  There was a small wet spot on the front of his pants, not too noticeable if someone wasn’t looking, but before he could think of how to hide that Beecher grabbed his cum covered hand and brought it to his lips, carefully licking his own cum off each of Keller’s fingers, sucking on them until they were clean, and Beecher wasn’t the only one that was in danger of coming in his pants.

Shit, he was so close, fuck it.  He scrambled for his pants and leaned his left shoulder against the wall and tugged Beecher closer.  The man was on his knees instantly, Keller’s cock barely out before he had it down his throat.  He cupped the back of his head, twining fingers in his hair, but that was all, and after the build up, the teasing it only took a few full bobs of his head before he was cumming.

Beecher swallowed around him, quick and efficient, and before he knew it Beecher was back on his feet and he was tucked away in his pants, and what the fuck had just happened.  Toby wiped across his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning at Keller like he was waiting for something, and he’d bet anything it was for a little praise.

“Jesus fuck Toby.”  They had to move, they were going to attract the hacks and he stumbled forward, a little shaky on his feet, grabbing Beecher’s arm to get them moving.  “Fuck, you’re amazing Toby.  Jesus.”

If the man had a tail it would be wagging, practically glowing with the praise.   They were almost to the cafeteria and he stopped, pulling Beecher in for one quick kiss, thorough though as he shoved his tongue into his mouth, tasting both of them, and finally nipped at his lip before he pulled away, hustling now.  They were late and it was going to look suspicious as hell.

Toby didn’t seem to be on boat with the moving quick though, grabbing on to Keller’s sleeve to slow him.  “Chris...”

“We gotta move Toby.”

“You kissed me.”

“Yea?”  It wasn’t like it was the first time. 

“But I just sucked your dick.”

Fuck, he could see the Aryans were already at their table, Vern looking around and he glanced at Beecher.  “Can you try to look a little less like you just came?”

“I just sucked your dick?”

“Yea, I heard you.  I realize, what is the...”  Oh, okay, he got it.  He tried to force his voice to stay calm, “We need to get in there and tell Schillinger that we were late because of some visitation shit, and we need to do it now.  Of course I kissed you, I don’t care that my dick was in your mouth.  Wait till I suck your cock, you’re going to lose your mind.”

Surprise was all over Beecher’s face at that but he dragged him in to the room, hoping that Vern was in a good mood and wouldn’t push too much.  They got in line, Keller rushing them through, and the look he gave the homeboys must have been a good one because they didn’t even try to fuck with Beecher.  Walking up to the table, Vern watching them, a plan came to him and he just hoped Beecher would catch on and play along. 

“Where the fuck have you guys been?”

Keller pressed Beecher down into a seat and shrugged, “Beecher took seeing his dad hard.  Took a minute to calm him down.”

Vern looked to Toby and eyed him, “Hard how?”

Keller waved his hand, digging in to his food, “You know, like a bitch.  Tears, that kind of shit.”

Vern’s face softened a little and he touched Beecher’s shoulder, “Was he a dick to you?  I knew you shouldn’t have met with him.”

Beecher licked his lips and finally nodded his head.  “He’s gonna put a PI on it though, and let me know.  The best one he has.”

That news perked Vern up instantly and he patted Beecher’s head, letting him eat his food.  “Good, thanks Beecher.  It means a lot to you me that you’re trying to help.”

It had gone smoothly, easy, and Keller glanced up only to catch Robson’s eyes.  He looked suspicious as he eyed Beecher and Keller made a note of that in his head, maybe it was time Robson had a little accident.

 

Watching Beecher and Schillinger face off to box was up pretty high on the list of the most pathetic things he’d even seen.  Beecher had hit the ground at least a half dozen times, was already sporting a black eye and fat lip, and had yet to even raise his gloves against Vern. 

Schillinger looked at him, and was laughing, “Thought you have been training the bitch to fight.”

Beecher met Keller’s eyes and he gave him a hard look before looking back to Vern.  “He’s not going to hit you, he’s not even going to try.”

Vern eyed him and shrugged before pulling off the gloves.  “Robson, come here.”

It fit so perfectly into his plan that Keller had a hard time keeping a straight face.  While Robson got the gloves on he moved to Beecher, getting his attention and leaning close.  “Robson’s a shit head he can’t really fight, not on fair ground.  Get him Beech, Vern is going to want to see it.  He won’t be mad if you win.”

Beecher nodded but was looking at the ground.  “Robson will be pissed.”

“That’s okay, I’ll protect you from _James_.  It works for us.  Do it.”  He glanced at Vern and caught his amused glance.

“Doubting your coaching skills Keller?”

He flipped Vern off and looked back to Beecher, lowering his voice as he met his eyes.  “Kick his ass Tobe, that’s a fucking order.  Got it?”

Beecher nodded and Keller gave him a little shove.  Schillinger laughed and nudged Robson, “Don’t hurt him too bad.”

They got close and Robson was grinning in a way that said he was looking forward to it, and Keller had to fight to stay relaxed.  Robson leaned towards Beecher, “Get ready to take a whuppin, prag.”

Beecher tilted his head but didn’t say anything and Vern laughed.  “Alright, get the fuck on with it.”

They squared off, and Robson rushed him, trying to use brute strength.  Beecher dodged, and he had been working hard, and when Robson over shot and made it past him Beecher’s fist shot out, slamming in the side of Robson’s head.

It must have hit just right because suddenly Robson was on the ground, out cold, and Beecher was standing there staring at him with shock.  Vern rushed forward and Beecher scrambled to get the gloves off, whimpering apologies but Vern shoved him out of the way, kneeling down next to Robson and grabbing his chin, taking a look at him.  The man was breathing, clearly okay, just knocked out and Vern turned to look at Beecher.

Keller tried to catch his eyes, but Beecher only had eyes for Vern, dropping to his knees and crying and flinching away.  Vern didn’t look mad though, he was laughing and when he reached for Beecher he pulled him close to pat him on the head, shoving to his feet as he did so.

“Well, fuck.”  Vern looked down at Beecher and chucked him on the chin, “Who knew you were such a killer.”

Robson was slowly coming to, pushing up on his hands and he tried to get his bearings, and when he finally sat back he found himself in the middle of a whole bunch of laughing Aryans.  Not just Aryans, but on the other side of the fence a few other groups had been watching and he looked at Vern.  “What the fuck happened?”

Mack grinned, “That bitch knocked you the fuck out.  One hit.”

Robson’s eyes found Beecher as he rocked to his feet, and the alarm was clear on his face as he cowered behind Vern.  “I’m gonna fucking kill you, you little bitch!”

He made it all the way to Vern, trying to get around him, when Schillinger kicked in to action, shoving Robson back.  Keller moved quickly, grabbing Beecher and pulling him to his feet as he pushed him behind him, standing at Vern’s back.

Robson was beyond pissed, beyond reason, taunts from the other side of the cage getting louder.  “You’re going to let him disrespect me like that?”

Vern shook his head, annoyed, “Jesus Robson, you guys were boxing.  What the fuck did you think he was going to do, just stand there while you beat the shit out of him?”

From the look on Robson’s face that was exactly what he had expected.  “Yea, he’s a fucking prag!”

“I told him to fight.”

Robson was glancing around now, aware that he was losing face and he pointed at Beecher, “He hit me, I want to fucking hit him back.”

The playful look was sliding off Vern’s face, “Why the fuck would I let you hit my prag for doing exactly what I fucking asked him to do?”

Keller wanted to push and spoke up from behind him, “Not his fault you went down like a bitch on prom night.”

Apparently Keller was a safer target and Robson launched at him, and it could have been a real fight but he was going for a specific emotion here, so he only caught his sleeve and shoved him hard, watching him lose his footing and hit the ground.

“Well fuck Robson, you look good on your hands and knees.”

The man scrambled to his feet, staring at Vern with a look of betrayal.  His nose was bleeding, it must have been from when he hit the floor and he swiped his hand across it before he snarled, “Fuck all you.”  And stormed out of the gym.

Another wave of laughter ripped through the room and Schillinger grinned at Beecher, “Look at you.”  He motioned at him and Beecher moved to him, letting Schillinger throw an arm around his shoulders.  He looked over Beecher’s head at inmates on the other side of the fence still throwing insults, “Oh fuck off dick heads.”

“Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Keller fell to the back of the group as they left, and once they were out of eye sight he took a slight detour, shoving some money in the hand of a homeboy, and catching up with Vern before he even realized that he was missing.  Robson was pissed and edgy, and now would be a terrible time for one of the black guys to start a fight with him.  He’d probably lose his temper, probably go too far.  Keller grinned to himself as he followed everyone back to Unit B. 

 

“What the fuck do you mean Robson is dead?”

Mack shrugged, and put his hands out.  “They found him bleeding out by the cafeteria.  I guess some stupid shit happened and he lost it.”

“Fuck.”  Vern rubbed a hand over his face and if Keller didn’t know better he would think that Vern actually cared about him.  The regret on his face looked real enough.  “I should have calmed him down before he took off.”

“I’m sorry.”  Until he whimpered out the apology Vern didn’t even remember that Beecher was there, and he reached out to pat his shoulder. 

“Not your fault Toby.” 

The words were barely out of Vern’s mouth when the unit manager was there, “Schillinger, come with me. We have a few questions.”

“Yea, yea.”  He patted Toby’s head again, obviously trying to comfort him and followed the man. 

Keller watched until he was out of sight and then got up, nudging Toby as he did so, making sure he knew to follow him.  Toby nodded without looking and a few minutes after Keller got up he pushed to his feet, heading towards his cell.  Keller was laying back on the bed, and grinned at Toby when he came into view. 

Beecher started to glance around but Keller muttered, “Don’t, it looks suspicious.”  Toby nodded and moved farther in to the cell, leaning against the bunk, grinning down at Keller.  He reached down to touch Keller’s arm with one finger before he pulled his hand away.

“Did you do that?”

“What?”

Beecher raised an eyebrow and Keller grinned before he shrugged, “I was with you all when it happened, you know that.”  He winked, “He probably won’t hassle you anymore though.  Taking your food, stupid shit like that.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“What you and O’Reily are planning?”

He gave him a tight smile, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Beecher nodded at that and looked down, “Do you not trust me because I’m a prag?”

“Beecher-”

“Or because I belong to Schillinger?”

“Toby-”

He met his eyes, “I’d belong to you instead if I could Chris.  Please trust me.”

“I didn’t want you to come over here to discuss this, Tobe.”

“Then what did you want to discuss, _sir_.”

Keller closed his eyes and sat up, with how moody Beecher was, with how touchy he was, he really struggled to figure out how Vern had kept him so long.  Schillinger was not a patient man.  “Don’t start this shit Toby, you won’t like the way it goes and neither will I.”

“Are you threatening me?”  His hand twitched, and Keller was relatively sure that he didn’t have a shiv but enough was enough.

Keller rocked to his feet, watching Beecher shrink back, “Okay, two things.  One, if you ever try to come at me with a shank again, you’re going to get it shoved up your ass.  Let’s just establish that right now, you understand that?”

Beecher’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard and nodded.  “No shivs.”

“Right.  Two, I’m working on something here.  I don’t need extra aggravation, and I don’t need to be worried about coddling a needy prag.  You can be mad at me if you want, but nothing will come from it except that you will be unhappy.  Surely you have better things to aim your rage at than me.”

“I got it.”  The words were snapped out but Beecher quickly relented, tilting his head, “Will I be your prag though, if whatever you’re not doing works?”

Keller reached up to brush against his hair, sliding a hand down to the back of his neck, cupping it as he frowned.  “Is that the only way you can see it Beecher?  The only option?”

“What?”

“My prag?  Is that what you see as the best outcome?  That you get a new owner?”

“Yea.”  He pulled away from Chris’ hand, “What else would there be?”

Keller shrugged, “I don’t know, not belonging to anyone?”

“Ah.”  Beecher glanced out once and then dropped to Keller’s bunk, leaning back and getting comfortable.  “I tried that.  It didn’t go well.”

“The biker?”

Beecher nodded and his mouth thinned out as he remembered.  “That was when I snapped.  That wasn’t the first time.  Schillinger isn’t the worst fuck in this place, not by a long shot, not when it comes to prags.  I made my choice.”  Beecher looked around the bed and held the blanket in his fist before he looked up at Keller, “Can I have one of your t-shirts?”

It caught him off guard, “What?”

“Can I have one of your shirts, that smells like you?  To wear.”

Keller finally nodded and grabbed one of his tank tops, tossing it to Beecher.  He held it up to his face for a moment smelling it and then shoved it inside his button up shirt.  They called out for dinner and he put a hand out to help Beecher up.  He used the momentum to pull him close and whispered against his ear, “You know Beecher, there is a world of possibilities in between prag and on your own.  Think about it.”

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

“How is it going with McManus?”

Ryan chewed on the toothpick thoughtfully as he watched Cyril practice with the punching bag.  He glanced around, “Where is Toby?”

“Busy today.”  He shifted his weight, because he wasn’t entirely happy about it.  With Robson gone Schillinger had been dragging Beecher around more, like he was making up for not having his favorite lackey, and when Keller had gone to ask him to go to the gym he had found them playing cards. 

He had still asked Vern if he wanted to go to the gym but he had shook his head and Beecher had only shot him a helpless look before going back to cards.  It was enough to make him kick out, knocking a weight into the wall with a crash, and then wave off the hack when they came to investigate.  Fuck that Nazi fuck for taking up his Toby’s time.

“Going okay.  I think I’ll be able to convince him to transfer you both over there.  He’s been itching to get Beecher back for a long time, making up for fucking it up the first time.”

“It only works if it is both of us O’Reily.  I’d rather be in Em City than unit B, but Toby needs to stay with me.”

“Yea, I know.”

His agitation was still high, but he knew that taking it out on O’Reily would only back fire.  “Do you have any idea how much longer until this happens?  I’m getting real sick of watching him fuck Beecher.”

“You need to quit thinking with your dick Keller, this takes time to get right when you’re dealing with someone like Vern.  It’s not like getting one of his minions whacked.”  Ryan glanced sideways at him, “That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Heard he just pissed off the wrong person.”  It was an answer as much as it wasn’t and O’Reily grinned.

“Beecher knocked him out too, yea?  I thought I heard that.”

“Guess those boxing lessons are doing good.”

They shared a laugh about it and finally Ryan pushed away from the fence.  “Almost Keller, just keep up your side of the deal and I’ll keep up mine.”

He nodded and watched the Mick walk away before he turned to the weights.  He might as well get a work out in.

 

“Toby, I need you to do me a favor.”

“Hmm.”  They were delivering the mail, and it was nice to have a break to talk to Toby without someone over his shoulder.  He had been looking at the mail but when Keller didn’t say anything else he glanced up, “Sorry, sure, anything.  What do you need?”

“Anything?”  His voice lowered seductively.

Beecher chuckled at that and muttered, “Yea, anything.”

He let the grin slide off his face and made sure Beecher knew he was serious.  “I need you to tell Vern that you saw me and O’Reily talking.  That you think we’re planning something.”

Keller had to nudge him to get him to keep moving, but nothing seemed to dissuade him from staring at Chris like he was insane.

“What?”

            “We’re going to go to the gym later, and when you’re in your cell tonight be nervous and scared and tell him that we were talking, and it sounded like we were planning something.  Against him.”

            “Chris-”

            Keller turned quickly and grabbed Beecher’s jaw, holding it still as he met his eyes, “Do it.  That’s an order.”

            Beecher’s eyes were welling up though, and his lip was starting to quiver, “He’ll kill you.”

            Keller softened his grip and wiped away the tears with his other hand, “Trust me, baby.  Will you do this for me?”

            Beecher held his eyes for a long time before he nodded and Keller let him look away.  He looked unhappy about it though, but there was nothing Keller could do about that.  He just had to trust that Toby would come through for him on this. 

 

            “Can we wrestle?”

            That surprised him, Beecher was looking up at him with a frantic look, and he could practically taste the desperation coming off of him.  He tried to ease it with a smile, “You think this is going to be the last time you see me?”

            “No.”  He didn’t sound convinced though and Keller gave him a mock frown.

            “Ye of little faith.”  He glanced at O’Reily and they had talked long enough to make it believable that they had plotted something.  Actually, there was no reason to hold back with Beecher too so in one fast lunge he grabbed him around the waist and took the few steps, slamming him down on the mat.  It wasn’t gentle and he grinned as anger and worry warred on Beecher’s face before it settled on annoyance and he kicked out.

            “That hurt!”

            “Hey, no pain, no gain.”  He knelt back pulling Beecher with him so they were both kneeling up on the mat and gave him a nudge.  “Okay, we’ll wrestle.  Get on your hands and knees.”

            It didn’t fail to bring a blush to Beecher’s face and he did as Chris asked.  Chris admired that view for a moment before he took his position behind him, not holding back this time.  He slid his hand around to Toby’s stomach, just a little lower until he was brushing the skin where his shirt rode up just above his pants, and pressed himself hard to his back.  His cock was already half hard, being around Toby did that, and he ground against his ass as he acted like he was getting settled.

            Ryan’s voice broke through his giddiness at holding Beecher, the man crouching close to him, talking low.  “Easy Keller, you don’t want Vern to target him.  Remember the plan.”

            His face was against Toby’s shoulder and he let out a sigh because he hadn’t thought of that.  If anyone reported to Vern how chummy Toby was with him before this he would be suspicious, and he may blame Toby.  He didn’t want that.  So he eased his hips back and whispered, “You can’t look like you’re having a good time Tobe, it needs to look like you’re pissed at me.”

            He turned his head, “What?”

            “I’m gonna be rough.  Try to get a way a little, get huffy with me.  It needs to be believable why you ran right to Vern.   Otherwise...”

            Toby’s head dropped and Keller could feel the panic rising in him, “He’ll think I was part of whatever you’re doing.”

            “Right.”

            He didn’t warn him as he suddenly moved, grabbing Beecher’s arm and slamming him face down in the mat, pinning him down hard when he struggled.  He raised his voice to be heard as he pushed back and slapped Beecher in the ass, “That’s a good bitch.”

            Toby rolled on to his back as soon as he could and kicked out, and he wasn’t entirely sure it was all fake because Beecher did look pissed.  He caught the foot though and used it to yank Toby to him, bending his knees back as he put all his weight over him, pinning him with his legs spread wide. 

            “Get off me!”  Beecher’s squeal sounded real enough, and he struggled, finally baring his teeth and snapping them in the air near Keller’s face.

            He jerked back at that and let go of his legs, grabbing Beecher’s shirt to pull him up with him, dragging the unresisting man to his feet.  When he let him go Beecher tried to back off the mat but he grabbed his arm and yanked him back, “You wanted to fucking wrestle.”

            Toby hesitated, scanning Chris’s face, suddenly looking unsure.  He moved closer into his personal space and lowered his head so he could talk to him without anyone hearing, “This is an act Tobe, remember.  I won’t hurt you.”

            Keller pulled back and put his hands up like they did when the grappled and Beecher hesitantly did as well, though he backed up another step when Keller moved forward.  It didn’t matter, Keller had longer reach and he grabbed Beecher by the back of the neck to pull him forward and used his body to take him back down to the mat, letting his hand slide to rest over his crotch once he had him pinned down, palming Beecher’s half hard cock.

            That got a real response too, as Beecher forgot about how to wrestle and wiggled and squirmed, trying to get away, flailing his hands at Chris. 

            “Stop!”  When Chris pulled back Beecher crawled away and climbed to his feet, darting to the other side of the mat and whimpered out, “I want to go back.”

            “We just got started.” 

            “Please, I want to go back to sir.”  Beecher’s eyes were wild and it was hard to figure out if he was acting or not.

Keller moved towards him, and caught the O’Reilys exiting and figured it was as good a time to go as any.  “Alright, fuck.  I wasn’t even playing that hard.”  He grabbed Beecher’s arm and pulled him out of the gym. 

They were in the hallway, clear of anyone and Keller was going to make sure that Beecher was okay when his arms were suddenly full of Toby, Toby kissing at his neck, lips searching for his mouth, his kiss full of desperation.  Chris quickly pulled them against the wall and cupped the back of Toby’s head, trying to calm him down.

He wasn’t having it though and pressed in hard, whimpering against Chris’s mouth and when he finally came up for air he was looking at Chris like he was terrified.  Beecher grabbed on to his shirt and the words rushed out before Toby could chicken out, before he could change his mind.  “I love you.”

It wasn’t what Chris had expected to hear and he froze, staring down at Beecher’s desperate eyes, that pleading look.  The way he had said it... it wasn’t like when he had said it about Vern, trained and automatic.  No, Toby sounded like his heart was ripping in two, like telling Chris that he loved him was killing him. 

“Toby-”

“I know I shouldn’t, not after all this.  I shouldn’t want...”  His breath hitched and he looked down, face covered in shame, “But I do.  I love you.”

Keller let the words sink in, let them settle around him before he reached up to grasp Beecher’s face in his hands and met his eyes.  He took a deep breath and then smiled, a real one with no subterfuge, no ulterior motive.  “I love you too Toby.” 

Their mouths smashed together again, the world falling away around them, and all that existed was their lips together, their bodies pressed together.  For a few moments all that existed for Keller was Tobias Beecher, and he could get used to that.  He wanted that.

            They pulled away with a gasp and Keller tried to get his wits about him.  “By tomorrow Beecher, I swear to god.”  He wanted to move closer but he shook his head and gave him a nudge towards unit B.  He wasn’t sure if anyone had seen them or not, hadn’t been paying attention at all, but hopefully it wouldn’t matter.  They were almost there and he let go of Beecher’s wrist and he hadn’t even been aware that he was holding it, “Don’t forget to tell him Toby.  I need you to do this, I know you’re scared but trust me.  Okay?”

            “Okay.”

            Now it was just a waiting game. 

 

            Keller made a point of not looking into the cell after lights out, pulling the blanket up like he was going to sleep, when Vern was sure to look over he didn’t want to give anything away. 

            He listened though, eyes closed and as silent as he could, he listened.  From the tone alone he knew that Beecher had done what he was supposed to.  Vern’s angry voice followed by a painful squeal from Beecher, and he had to fight hard not to look to see what Vern was doing.  He would be lying if he said he didn’t think that Vern would take some anger on Toby for telling him, he was always a shoot the messenger kind.

            Eventually the noises quieted into comforting ones, and when it went silent he finally risked a look.  Vern was on his bunk and looked like he was sleeping and Beecher was on his stomach, staring across at Keller.  They shared a long look, eyes on each other until they fell asleep.  Or at least until Toby did, for Keller the adrenalin was roiling in his stomach, making him antsy and he couldn’t wait until this came to a head.

 

            Pretending that nothing was wrong was easier than he would have thought.  He kept his face schooled, joking around with Vern, and if the fucker was quieter than usual he didn’t acknowledge it. 

            They ate breakfast, went to work, went to lunch.  Afterwards Keller casually nudged Vern, “I’m heading to the gym.”

            He didn’t wait for Vern to answer, just headed towards the exit and he had only made it a few steps when Vern spoke up.  “And you’re not taking Beecher?”

            Keller stopped and turned to look at him, shrugging.  “Wasn’t planning on it.”

            Vern’s eyes narrowed and Keller worked hard to not look towards where Beecher was watching.  “You always take Beecher.  So you guys can... wrestle or whatever the fuck it is you do.”

            “Don’t feel like it today.”

            Vern nodded, “Okay.”  His eyes were suspicious and Keller could feel them watching him all the way out the door.  He hid his grin until he was clear of the room. Vern was never going to see it coming.

           

            Keller lifted the weights like he didn’t have a care in the world, waiting.  He didn’t have to wait long, could see Vern come through the door, Mack and Beecher in tow, eyes scanning for him.  He was so focused on Keller, so enraged, that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings at all.  Not like Verno, but then again, Keller had been working hard to get the man so tied up that he let his guard down.

            “Keller!”

            He set the weight down and rocked to his feet, unconcerned as he approached Vern, matching him smirk for smirk.  He watched Vern’s face falter, he had expected Chris to be nervous, to have caught him off guard, and something was starting to sink in for him.

            Vern’s eyes scanned the room, realizing that it was empty, but it was too late to make a difference now.  He started to turn towards mack but was met by his man standing there with a shiv against his neck by one of the Irish, “Fuck.”

            In the time it took him to look at Mack Beecher scurried away from his side, and when Vern looked back Beecher was pressed against Keller.  _That_ look on Schillinger’s face was even better, the betrayal and hurt, and sure that one of the Irish that had filtered in the room would keep an eye on Vern he grabbed Beecher’s hair and tilted his head, kissing him hard.

When he let him go Beecher was dazed, staring at Keller with his face open.  With his feelings plain for anyone to see and suddenly Vern let out an enraged scream, lunging forward at Keller.  He was ready for it though and he shoved Beecher away, catching Vern’s full weight as they hit the ground, fighting for the top position.

            “I’ll fucking kill you!”  Keller was confident he had this, Vern wasn’t used to fighting his own battles anymore, and just as he was getting the upper hand Vern got a lucky shot that dazed him long enough for Vern to slam his head in to the ground.

            His eyes unfocused and then Vern was on top of him, a shiv in his hand and he saw Ryan moving forward but he wasn’t going to get there in time.  Beecher stood next to them, face panicked, wound up tight, and Vern turned to look at him, growling out.  “I’m going to fuck you up so hard Beecher.  I’m going to make you wish you were dead right after I kill your boyfriend.” 

            Beecher looked so scared and Keller tried to get that last bit of strength but Vern’s hand was already coming down. 

            Blood suddenly hit him in the chest, in the face, and he thought it was his own but there was no pain and he felt Vern’s weight tumble off him.  He opened his eyes, not sure when he had closed them, and could only gape for long seconds.

            Beecher stood over him, shiv clenched in his fist, face shocked and to his side Vern was holding his neck, trying to stop the bleeding but it was going to be too late.  Beecher had managed to take a pretty good chunk out when he sliced his throat.  Beecher stepped over Keller until he was right over Vern and kicked him hard in the side, voice a growl.  “Fuck you Vern.  FUCK YOU.”

            Ryan didn’t try to go near Toby, instead pulling Keller to his feet.  “We got to go.  Now.”

            On the other side of the gym Mack was lying in a pool of blood, not moving, and yea, they needed to go.  He stopped to stare at Vern, blowing him a kiss as he gurgled out his lasts breaths, and then grabbed Toby’s elbow.

            The man’s body tensed for a second, shiv coming up, but then it was like all his strength was gone and he was just suddenly sobbing.  Keller pulled up his sleeve and grabbed the shiv, wiping any fingerprints off on his pant leg and tossed it to lay next to Vern before grabbing Beecher’s wrist.  “Come on Toby, hold it together, just a little longer.”

            “I killed him.”

            “You sure as fuck did, baby.”  He pulled him in for a quick kiss, neither of them caring that they were covered with blood, and quickly followed the direction that Ryan had gone.  They needed to have an alibi, and they had to have it soon.  That part was O’Reily’s job, and all that was left was to get cleaned up and get their story straight.

 


	10. Chapter 10

“You have both been in Em City before, however briefly for one of you, but you remember the rules?”

            Keller and Beecher sat side by side in McManus’ office.  They had been offered protective custody from the Aryans, even though they hadn’t been suspects in Schillinger and Mack’s murders, there was still rumblings from the Aryans that they blamed them.

            Not that there was much they could do.  They had lost their top three people in the matter of days and were in complete disarray.  “No fighting, keep shit clean.  Don’t cause trouble.”  Keller grinned at McManus as the man realized what he left out and his face soured.

            “And no fucking.  I mean it.”

            Beecher chuckled a little and looked up at McManus, and though that softness was still there, that side of him that had marked him as prey the second he walked through the door, there was something more there now.  Something with teeth. “Yea. Right.  I remember from when I stayed here with Vern.”

            The words settled between them and McManus broke first, looking away.  “We believe the circumstances that got both of you kicked out of Em City are in the past, and you will get another try.  But take this serious gentleman; there will be no second chance.”

            “Yes, sir.”  Beecher tilted his head and that predator that had come to the surface faded away again, “Can we go?”

            “Sure Beecher.”  Toby nodded and stood up, waiting for Keller to open the door for him, and they headed towards their pod. 

            Ryan sidled up with them as they moved and couldn’t help but sound smug, “In Em City and sharing a pod.  Do I get shit done or what?”

            “You the man, Ryan.”  Beecher was smiling, and he gave Keller a shy look as he held out his hands, “Here, give me your stuff, I’ll get the beds made up.”

            Keller nodded and handed his stuff over, his fingers brushing Beecher’s before the man headed to the pod and he was left to head to the common area with Ryan, settling into a table and joining the card game going on there. 

            He kept his eyes mostly on Beecher though and Ryan nudged him, “So, with you two.  What exactly is going on there?”

            “What do you mean?”

            Ryan rolled his eyes, “Is he going to be your prag, or are you like...”

            Keller only shrugged and looked down at his hand and finally Ryan made an annoyed sound.  “Whatever, I don’t want to know anyways.”

            “Probably for the best.”

            When Beecher finished getting the pod together he came out, sinking in to the chair next to Keller, leaning close to him and he didn’t ask to join the game.  Keller glanced at him and they shared a smile, Keller’s hand moving to Toby’s thigh under the table and he gave it a squeeze. 

            Beecher leaned close to him, face sweet and relaxed and when he pressed his lips against Keller’s neck he expected him to say something sappy.  Instead he had whispered in his ear, “I can’t wait for you to fuck me tonight.”

            Keller nearly dropped the cards in his hands as he whipped his head around to look at Beecher and let the smirk cover his face.  Oh, he was glad to be in Em City.  He leaned close until they were almost touching faces, ignoring as O’Reily complained about getting back to the game, and growled.  “Mine.”

            Beecher nodded, humming under his breath as he relaxed and leaned back in his chair, “Yours,” and they were working on finding that place in between owned and free because he added, “I took the top bunk.”

            Keller nodded at that, it was harmless really, and turned back to the game.  He noticed the grin that covered Beecher’s face though, and that was worth taking the bottom bunk.  
           

            Beecher slid down from his bunk, glancing out the pod to make sure that the hacks had settled in for the night, and then crawled on top of Keller.

            Keller laughed and wrapped his arms around him, letting Beecher’s weight settle on him for a minute before he rolled them over, tucking Toby under him.  He had wanted to fuck him so badly when they were in unit B, and he had thought about setting it up, but he was glad that he had waited now.  That the first time he would be with Toby like this that it would be in their pod, it would be when they had some time, when they didn’t have to rush in a closet with the lingering fear on Beecher of being caught.

            He buried his face against Beecher’s neck, “God you smell good.”  He pressed open mouth kisses against Toby’s neck, pressing harder each time until he was using teeth, biting and sucking until the side of his neck would be bruised the next day.  Marked.

            “Chris.”  His name was a whine and Toby’s hips pressed up against his, begging to be touched.

            “Shh, we got time.”

            “Chris, please.  I need this.  Need you, now.”

            Though he had planned to go slower the first time with Toby, he could see what he was saying.  He wanted to erase Vern’s touch, there was a need plain on his face that said he had to know that this was different.  “Okay, baby.  Anything you want.”

            Keller helped him strip off his clothes and he did the same, taking a moment to press over Toby, naked skin to naked skin.  Beecher’s hips canted up, already hard and leaking, panting against Chris.  Yea, it definitely wasn’t the time to try to make it last.

            He pulled the lube he had gotten out from under the mattress and nudged one of Beecher’s legs until he lifted it up, giving Keller room to reach under him, trailing lubed fingers over his hole.  When he looked up Beecher looked unsure though and he stopped just short of pushing his fingers in, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

            “Don’t you want me... you know... the other way?”

            The worry melted away and Keller shook his head, “No.  Don’t worry Toby, let me take care of you.”

            Beecher nodded, licking his lips, and Keller took that as the go ahead.  He pressed his fingers in slowly, watching Beecher’s face for his reaction, stretching him out until he found that place inside.  Beecher had been panting but as Chris pressed against his prostate with sure fingers it morphed into a deep whine, filling the pod even as Toby tried to smother it. 

            He grabbed Toby’s cock and gave him one long stroke before he let go, the other man so clearly close to cumming and he didn’t want him to do that before he was in him.  “You ready for me baby.”

            “God, Chris, _please_.”

            Keller could listen to Toby beg to be fucked all day for the rest of his life.  He shifted them until Toby had lifted both legs and he lined himself up, making sure he met Toby’s eyes before he pushed in.  He moved slow, waiting for Beecher to adjust, and didn’t pick up his pace until Beecher was starting to push back at him, scrambling to hold on to his arms.  When the thrusts started to hit hard and fast into his prostate Beecher threw his head back, biting his own arm to keep quiet, and it was the most beautiful thing Chris had ever seen.

            He was close now and he pressed forward all at once, catching Beecher’s wrist and pinning them against the bed, his body forcing Toby’s knees up and they were face to face.  Beecher’s eyes flew open and his mouth was pressing up for a kiss without any prompting.  The wrists he was holding strained against him, testing how hard he was being held down, and Keller didn’t miss the flare of arousal on Toby’s face when he realized he couldn’t move them.  Yea, his baby liked it, he could tell. 

            When he pulled away from the kiss he bit down on Toby’s neck until he tasted blood and then pulled back, “I love you Toby.”

            “I love you too.”

            Chris let go of Toby’s wrists and pulled back enough that he could increase his thrusts, shoving one hand between them to wrap around Toby’s cock, long hard strokes that were sending him tumbling towards orgasm.

            “Chris, please, _please_.” 

            It pushed Chris over the edge, Toby begging him to cum and he barked out, “Cum for me, bitch.”

            He kissed him mostly to muffle the moans from both of them as they came.  Toby shooting over his stomach, cumming so hard some of it making it all the way up his chest.  It made his body clench around Chris’ cock as he thrust a few last times, wishing he could wrap himself up in Toby forever. 

            Keller let most of his weight settle over Toby, just keeping enough off to make sure he didn’t smother him, and let out a satisfied chuckle as he pressed their foreheads together.  Sex shouldn’t be that good, especially not here.  But it was the best sex he’d ever had.

            “Wow.”  The breathy word against his neck made his dick twitch, which made Toby’s body twitch and he grinned some more. 

            “Good?”

            Beecher let out a long satisfied sigh and answered, “Wow.”

            Keller couldn’t keep the silly grin off his face as he nuzzled against Beecher’s neck, soothing the bite with long strokes of his tongue.  He wondered if Toby would complain about being a called a bitch, but the man seemed content. 

            He wanted to stay wrapped up like they were all night, but the hacks would be around eventually, and he didn’t need to give them reason the first night they were there to split them up.  So he finally pulled back, pulling out, and kissed away the wince on Beecher’s face when he did.  Beecher started to get up too but he pressed one hand to his shoulder, pushing him back on the bed. 

            Keller stood up and stretched, not at all ashamed of his nudity and went to the sink, running a cloth under the water before he went back to Toby.  Toby tried to take it but he knocked his hands away, wiping it up Toby’s legs and across his stomach, his chest, cleaning the cum off him.  When he was done he leaned over to press a quick kiss to his mouth. 

            “You okay?”

            “Yea.”  Beecher finally pushed himself up, glancing around outside the pod with a blush on his face before he looked back to Keller, looking relieved when the other man held him his clothes.  “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

            After he pulled on his pants he stood up and Keller moved on him quick, boxing him against the bed frame, pressing their bodies together.  “That is just the start Tobe, you have no idea how good it can be.”

            From where Keller was pressed against him he could feel Toby’s dick respond to that, too soon to get hard again but like it sure as hell wanted to.  He kissed him again, a long slow kiss that wasn’t leading anywhere, that finally broke up when a hack slammed his hand down on the door and yelled at them to go to sleep.

            Keller threw a glare in the general direction of the hack but that was it as he smiled at Beecher, “Come on, get in your bunk.  We don’t want to have to listen to a McManus lecture tomorrow.”

            Toby nodded and Keller gave him a boost up and he waited until he was settled before he got in his own bunk.  He was just starting to drift off when Beecher spoke from the bed above him.

            “Chris... I don’t... what are the rules.  You haven’t said.”

            He put his hands under his head and thought about it before he answered, “Rules?”

            “Yea.”  Beecher’s head appeared around the side of the bunk, and he looked unsure, “I mean, prags have rules.”

            “You aren’t my prag.”

            Beecher’s eyes widened at that and it looked like it took him a minute to work through that before he answered, “But I belong to you?”

            “Yes.”

            “I’m yours.”

            “Mine.”

            The worry finally slid off Beecher’s face and he smiled shyly, “Okay,” and disappeared back on his bunk like that answered his question.  And maybe for him it did.

            He listened until Beecher’s breathing evened out and he was asleep, sure that he was safe and content and only then did Keller let himself relax, really relax for the first time since he walked through those prison gates, and closed his eyes.  Life wasn’t easy in Oz, but with Beecher by his side, it suddenly didn’t seem so bad. 

           

 


End file.
